Holden
by TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo
Summary: Continuing where 'Vulnerable' left off in my Winchester Ranch series, we continue with the Winchesters on their journey to protect their families. Back in the monster game, Dean and Grace Winchester are thrown into a cross-country hunt that takes them to Holden, Maine: home to Sabina Wells, a mousy teenager with some pretty magical problems.
1. Chapter 1

::Greetings, everyone! We're moving right on to the next story from Winchester Ranch. A huge thank you for the reads and comments! Please let me know what you think as we continue our journey together. _Holden_ takes place directly after _Vulnerable._ I, of course, having nothing to do with owning _Supernatural_ or any of its characters, but by Chuck, I do love to dabble. Thank you so much for letting me take this journey. Hope you enjoy.

Love and internetty hugs,

The Girl With the Dinosaur Tattoo::

...

Chapter 1

Dean

I woke up with a start smelling diesel smoke having no idea where I was. Sitting up in bed, I looked around, trying to remember through the haze of the morning. Pain shot across the back of my head and I closed my eyes, realizing that I hadn't dreamed the hunt that my sister-in-law and I went on the night before…the restless spirit in Old Town Topeka had been real. He had put up quite a fight and had tossed me out a second story window as he pelted Serendipity with utensils, pots, and pans. His cremated remains hadn't included the lock of hair his mother kept around her neck in a locket and he had been causing quite a stir lately, bent on taking the hotel back from her.

Rubbing my face and trying to get my wits about me, I glanced next to me in bed. Serra was still sleeping; the mound of blankets rose and fell with each breath she took and her long, auburn hair cascaded over the pillow that was shoved up against her face. I chuckled, remembering the fit she had thrown in the lobby the day before about us having to share a bed because the motel we found was down to single queen beds. It was either that or drive home tonight on less than an hour of sleep at three in the morning. She had relented, realizing how tired we both were.

Silently, I pulled myself out of bed, grabbing my jeans, new boxers, and a new shirt to change into once I was out of the shower. Closing the bathroom door, I sighed, staring at myself in the mirror; I looked exhausted. As I turned the shower on, I let the steam seep into my pores, trying to relax the knot on the back of my head from colliding with the ground multiple times the night before. Getting my ass kicked was hard, and I was out of practice.

I took my time in the shower, gingerly soaping up my shoulders and face, wary of the bumps and bruises that had begun to spread beneath the surface of my skin.

There was a bang on the door and Serra's voice echoed through the wall. "Come on, you girl! You've been in there like, twenty minutes!"

Chuckling and shaking my head, I shouted back, "What do you want?"

"I've gotta pee so bad!"

I rolled my eyes. "Jesus, just come in, then," I answered. She wasted no time, slamming the door open and tripping on the floor mat. Laughing at her as she used the bathroom, I rinsed my face and back as she washed her hands, forcing me out of the stream of now-frigid water. "Holy shit," I said, jumping to the side.

"What's the matter?" Serra asked, reaching for the towel above the toilet.

"Quality motel water temperature control," I muttered, testing the water with my fingertips before I stepped back into the stream.

Serra hesitated in front of the mirror for a few seconds longer, checking the bruises on her lower back and face. I could see her shadow, silhouetting against the dark patterned canvas shower curtain. She turned to talk to the curtain and chuckled, "I think we're officially closer than most in-laws now."

"It was probably safe to say that before this," I answered, rinsing my hair once more. I shut off the water and stood, dripping, in the middle of the tub. "But unless you want full frontal, you need to move along."

"Do I actually have a choice?" Serra asked with a smile in her voice. She tilted her head and waited patiently, her shadow moving with the rest of her body.

"Get out!" I yelled.

She laughed, turning on her socked feet and striding back out of the room. She shut the door behind her and I stepped out of the tub and reached for a new towel.

Minutes later, I was dressed in my favorite faded Metallica tee shirt and jeans, barefoot, and drying my hair with the tiny towel from the bathroom. I opened the door and the steam followed me out into the room and caught the tail end of Serra pulling on a fresh tank top, tugging it down over the bruises on her back.

"You okay?" I asked, referring to her back.

She shrugged and turned to face me, tossing the white tank she had worn to bed on the comforter. "I guess," she answered. "When you got tossed, he shoved me into the bar. My back is killing me." She made a face. "How about you? Are you concussed?"

"I don't think so," I ventured, turning my head and gesturing to the goose egg on the back of my skull. "What time is it?"

She picked up her phone and pressed the top button and I caught a glimpse of my nephew and niece cuddled together in the picture on the phone's screen. "Almost eight," she answered, tossing the phone back onto the bed. "We can hit the road anytime."

I began my usual motel room sweep and threw my belongings back into the green duffle at the foot of the bed. I checked that the safety was on my forty-five as I tucked it into the waistband of my jeans and loaded up the rock salt shotgun shells we still had left. I felt the pockets of my jeans and glanced around, still missing my lighter.

"What are you looking for?" Serra asked as she rolled her extra pair of jeans up and tucked them into her own duffle.

"My Zippo," I answered, glancing up at her.

Serra clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. "Why? It's not like it worked last night," she spat. "Left me hanging with an iron poker for about eight minutes."

"Yeah, it's empty, so sue me," I said, shaking my head. "I found a book of matches." I paced over towards the nightstand once again, still feeling my pockets. "I still want my friggin' Zippo. That was my dad's."

She dumped the duffle bags on the floor and ripped off the bed's comforter, shaking it out as she did so. We both heard a thump as something small hit the floor on the other side of the bed. I walked around, bent down and held it up victoriously.

"Thank you, Serra," she mocked in a sing-songy voice.

"You are annoying as hell," I answered, tucking the lighter back into my pocket where it belonged. "How Sammy puts up with you twenty-four-seven, I will never understand." As I finished my thought, my phone started to vibrate on the TV cabinet across the room. Serra tossed it to me and I caught it, answering automatically, "Hey gorgeous."

"Hi there, stranger," came my wife's voice from the other end. "Have you killed Serra yet?"

"Close," I answered, glancing up at my sister-in-law. "Barged in on my shower time."

Grace laughed quietly. "How dare she?" Grace replied. A tiny voice was in the background, babbling to Grace and I recognized it immediately as my youngest daughter, Faith. "Number four says good morning," she continued.

I couldn't help but smile as I turned towards the door of the motel room with my duffle and headed outside. I leaned on the hood of my Impala after dumping my bag into the trunk and listened harder. "She been good?" I asked.

"Yeah," Grace agreed. "She and Everett have been sleeping in your spot."

"I have no doubt," I said, glancing at my bare feet. The sun was shining, warming my wet hair, even though it was still winter in the Midwest. "We're gonna get on the road, here soon. Shouldn't take us more than a half hour or so to get home. We weren't even going to stay last night, but we took a beating."

"I know," my wife replied. "I was listening as soon as you and Serra started to whisper."

My wife was a talented creature. She was Nephilim, meaning she was half-human and half-angel. So much had happened since we met, it was hard to put in a summary, but she and I somehow have four kids together, a big, awesome farm house outside of my hometown of Lawrence, and my brother Sammy married her little sister. It wasn't as weird as it sounded…it's just how it worked out. Sam and Serra lived on the other side of our property, buying the Small House and we made it work. They had two kids of their own and every morning that I woke up and stared into my wife's blue eyes, it made me question if I was alive or dead. I didn't deserve any of it, but I had it all.

We wrapped up our phone call and I walked back into the motel room as Serra tossed me her duffle. "I'm all packed up. I want food," she said, her voice sharp.

I knew from experience that she was as bad as one of the kids; needing to eat every four hours or so to keep the edge out of her voice. Dropping her duffle on the floor next to me, I bent to pull on my boots. "Dude, we'll be home in a half an hour."

"Coffee," she said, demanding. "Food. Now."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the flannel that hung on the back of the chair near the door. "Fine," I said, gesturing to the open door. "Let's go, princess." She shot me daggers and as she stomped out of the room, Serra picked up her duffle bag and threw it into the trunk of Baby. She slammed the deck lid and I tilted my head at her. "Hey," said, opening my hands and raising my eyebrows. "Gentle."

Serra threw herself into the front seat and I took a deep breath. Three days was definitely our limit together. I couldn't wait to go home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dean

"Hey!" I yelled into my silent house as I shut the door behind me. "Anybody home?"

Grace's voice echoed from the upstairs bedrooms. "Yeah, we're up here, babe!" she shouted.

After I dumped my duffle, wallet, and keys on the dining room table, I jogged up the steps, limping slightly because of the bruises on my hip from landing on my side when the spirit tossed me out that window. I winced slightly, shaking my head and chuckling. Thirty-eight was no joke, although I knew as soon as I made physical contact with Grace, she would heal me and I would feel twenty-six again.

Liberty and Glory, my older daughters, greeted me at the top of the steps, both reaching out to hug me around the legs simultaneously. Lib grabbed my hand and I felt the familiar tingle that she created so often now…her abilities were coming out more and more, resembling her mother more each day. I glanced down and grinned. Lib's healing abilities beat Grace to the punch.

"Hey, Meatloaf, take care of this too, will you?" I said, bending down and pointing to the bruise on my cheek. She grinned and silently put her hand out, touching the scruff on my face. Glory joined her, leaning closer to me and putting both of her chubby hands across my forehead.

When I opened my eyes, I stared into the familiar green of my daughters' eyes and I took a deep breath. It didn't hurt. My girls were miracle workers.

I stood; taking each of the hands they extended to me and walked with them into Liberty's bedroom, where Grace was sprawled out on the carpet with Everett and Faith, my other two munchkins. "Hey, gorgeous," I greeted automatically, grinning a roguish grin at my wife.

She rolled to her stomach, lifting her hair out of her face and smiled at me. "Hey there, stranger," she replied. "You survived."

"I did," I said, bending to sit on the carpet with them. "Thing didn't go quietly, though."

"I was talking about Serra," she said, chuckling.

Lifting my eyebrows, I shook my head. "Man," I began, leaning my head back on the wall, "she is amped all the friggin' time. I'm starting to understand why you're so endlessly patient with me."

Grace nodded and laughed, turning to her back and laying her head on my thigh. "You're a cakewalk compared to my sister, the natural disaster," she replied with a smile in her voice. The kids immediately followed suit, laying over her and playing with the Hot Wheel cars that were scattered around the room, using her legs as a race track. "You don't have to tell me," she said quietly. "I'm glad that you hunt so well together, though."

I agreed. "Yeah, we seem to." I leaned down to kiss her and smiled lightly. "I'd like to give it a go with you."

"We'll see," she said, gesturing at Faith. My youngest was lying in a pillow that propped her up enough so that I could see her serious blue eyes. Faith was only about four months old, but she had the eyes of an older, more angelic soul. "I still don't like the idea of both of us being gone at the same time."

Pursing my lips, I shrugged. "They would be in good hands, considering our babysitters," I said, smiling at Faith. She stared back, showing no emotion, but I knew that was typical. That girl was mostly angel and she reminded me so much of Cas, it was scary. I glanced back down at Grace. "Has Cas come by to see his daughter lately?" I asked sarcastically.

Grace laughed, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "He was here last night. Made himself comfortable."

"When can I expect the wedding invitation?"

"I sent them out last week," Grace answered, not missing a beat. We had joked about Castiel being Faith's real father since she was born, considering he had been the angel to use Grace as a vessel to create Faith; making sure she was more angel than human in order to keep Everett's genetic Mark of Cain under control. Grace's tolerance of the joke was waning, though; the laugh just barely touched her eyes. I made a mental note to back off a bit.

Castiel kept my wife safe while I was gone and I would forever be grateful to the angel that had taken residence as our best friend. We hadn't deeply discussed what had gone here at home during the five months that Ouriel's demon spell had me held hostage; forcing me to become someone I was terrified of becoming again, but I knew it was always under the surface, begging to be talked about. It had taken me months to gain Serra's trust back (although, I wasn't sure if she would ever completely trust me again). Grace seemed to take it in stride, never questioning my loyalty, but there was something that she wasn't telling me. We just hadn't talked about what.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to know.

Grace was always listening to my thoughts and I could feel her body language shift as I brought it up in my mind. She had avoided the topic since the baby was born, using Faith as a shield when she didn't want to get into it. As Everett walked over to me and plopped down onto my other leg and leaned back into my chest silently, I turned my gaze to Grace's.

"We ever gonna talk about it?" I asked quietly.

"There's nothing to talk about," she answered, shrugging. She sat up, immediately moving away from me as she did so often when I tried discussing whatever she was hiding from me.

Lib immediately filled the void left by her mother on my lap and scooted her way into the space. Grace bent to scoop Faith from the floor and walked out of Lib's bedroom, her blonde hair trailing behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Grace

I don't know why I held the secret I did. Castiel and I were essentially innocent and there was nothing that we had to hide from Dean, but every time Dean brought it up, I felt defensive and on edge. The more I pushed the conversation away, the more my husband obsessed about it and I knew it would continue to fester, especially if I kept getting up and walking away every time.

I could hear the trickle of kids coming down the steps from Liberty's bedroom and I busied myself by starting the dishes that had piled up in the sink. There was still snow on the ground, so I knew I wouldn't be able to send the kids outside to play, so I thought quickly and walked over to the giant box of little kid Legos and dumped them unceremoniously on the floor. Everett was the first one down the steps, launching himself at the blocks, and the girls followed quickly, joining him on the rug.

Dean approached me from behind. "Why do I get the feeling that there's something going on between you and Cas?"

I whipped around, my eyebrows furrowing, and shook my head. "There's nothing going on between me and Cas," I spat, unable to hide the rising tone of my voice.

Pressing his lips together, Dean nodded once. "Thank you for confirming that there's something you're not willing to talk about having to do with Cas."

I shut my eyes, defeated, as I realized his play. He took a leap with the information that he had gathered over the months of avoiding and joking about the subject. I had confirmed with my overreaction.

Dean leaned on the counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest, taking a deep breath and staring at me with those green eyes. He looked tired, but he was obviously dismissing it as he pushed me towards the conversation that I had no idea how to start.

"Grace," he took a deep breath and glanced down at his feet, bare on the kitchen floor. "There is nothing that you can say to me that will change us. The demon spell and I have already done so much damage…" he faded away and shook his head. "Try me."

The memories of Castiel and I wound their way through my head and I tried to form sentences to explain, but nothing came. What could I say to my husband about the comfort that his best friend had offered to me? How could he understand that the feeling of safety and desire and that it wasn't something that I meant to feel when Castiel surrounded me with his grace? Cas' touch while he was a part of me was something that I couldn't explain in human terms, but now, thinking about it, it felt wrong. I had been tempted while Dean was under the demon spell, especially when my abilities allowed me to tune into Dean's illicit activities with the six other women that resembled me.

There was a level of intimacy that Cas and I shared while Dean was gone, and as a married woman, I know it shouldn't have happened the way it did, but then, it seemed the only comfort I could find. Castiel and I had a bond that not even Dean and I shared, but before he had taken me as a vessel to help create my daughter, it was a platonic one. Now, we had redefined our relationship, not through human infidelity, but by a level of comfort and touch that I really couldn't explain. The feeling of Castiel's grace wrapped around my body, attempting to comfort me while Dean was trapped in the demon spell was not something I would ever repeat, but it was also something I didn't regret.

I just had no idea how to explain that to my husband.

"Grace," Dean repeated, moving closer to me. I realized that I had been silent for longer than he felt comfortable with.

I stared at him and dried my hands on the towel, setting it to the side. Taking a deep breath, I tilted my head and opened my mouth, but nothing came.

"Eventually, you're gonna have to use some words," he whispered. "You're not the only psychic that lives here anymore, but the other one isn't me."

I stared at the red glass knob on the cupboard near Dean's knees, my jaw still clenched shut.

He took another slow breath, unfolding his arms and stuffing them in his pockets. "Is this something I should just ask Cas about?"

My eyes found his and I shook my head slowly, licking my lips. Dean raised his eyebrows and waited.

"When you were gone," I started, staring back at the red glass knob, "Cas and I got close. He was…always there." Flicking my gaze to Dean, I tried to find the words. "I mean, of course he was. He was using me as a vessel, helping make Faith." I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head again, trying to plow onward.

"He comforted you when I couldn't," Dean added quietly.

Staring at my husband, I shrugged. "It was more than that," I explained. "His grace can be used as a…a feeling or a sensation. He would hold me when I cried or was too desperate to form words and it felt like he was there, lying in bed with me."

Dean listened silently, still watching me carefully.

"The more often we…whatever you want to call it, cuddled?" I said, turning the last word into a question. I chanced a glance at Dean. He didn't move, so I didn't change course. "The further we took it."

Without breaking the smooth exterior of his face, Dean asked, "Did you sleep with him?"

The simple question stung, but I took a deep breath. "No," I answered honestly. "That's not what I would call it."

Before I knew it, I had tears flood my eyes, realizing how awful it sounded when I said it out loud. Dean had been completely taken hostage by a spell that made him the very worst version of himself that he had ever been, forcing him to do things with other women that he couldn't control. I, on the other hand, had been completely lucid. I was just another overly jealous female, trying to seek comfort in the arms (or grace) of another man.

Dean licked his lips and stared at the floor in front of him, his thoughts racing too fast for me to discern. He was upset, but not in a way that he blamed either of us. He was jealous, but not about the fact that Cas and I had been intimate: he was jealous of a bond that Cas and I shared now, that he wasn't a part of. Dean was worried that he couldn't give me the level of soothing that Castiel had given me.

Staring up at me, I heard Dean come to the conclusion in his mind that he wasn't good enough for me. I was shaking my head before he had a chance to voice his thoughts. "Why would you think that? I should be the one to- "

Dean held up a finger to silence me. "My turn," he said, lifting his eyebrows.

I nodded, waiting.

Taking a deep breath, Dean lowered his hand and scratched his arm absentmindedly. "Look," he began. "I'm not gonna back Cas trying to steal my wife from me, but I can understand." His lips tugged into a weak grin. "You two have always had something that I haven't been a part of and I'm guessing it's because you both have wings." He smiled lightly at that, tilting his head. "I get it, Grace," he continued. "Cas was easy. He was there, already…in you." He closed his eyes at the thought, shaking it from his brain, knowing it was a joke we had shared multiple times. "Whatever he can do with his grace…I don't care. He was there for you and I owe him for it."

I shook my head, trying to make him see. "I don't think you're understanding how close we were, Dean. You should be pissed."

He shrugged. "Six, Grace," he said with finality. "Six different women; and you never even did anything for me to be pissed about."

I searched for a way to explain myself further, to make Dean understand, but I came up short, having nothing else. Finally, I reached out for his hand and stared into his eyes. "Now that I'm finally confessing, you need to see," I whispered.

Immediately, he pulled his hand out of my grasp. "No," he said, shaking his head. "I don't. I don't need to see you in that kind of pain." Dean sighed and wrapped me into a hug, resting his head on mine. "I love you, Grace."

I pushed my face into his chest and closed my eyes. "Why?" I asked, taking a deep breath of his scent.

He pushed me away and stared at me. "Because it's my decision," he answered. "And you're the only woman that I'll ever want."

Dean bent to kiss me and at first, I resisted, still so confused at why he would forgive me so easily. He simply stared at me; his green gaze penetrating through my barriers and dropping my walls. I could feel all four sets of our kids' eyes on my back, waiting for us to embrace and move on, so I smiled sheepishly and reached up to close the gap between our faces.

As he pulled away, Dean smiled and lifted his eyebrows. "So there _is_ a possibility that Faith isn't mine."

"You're hilarious," I said, pushing him away.

He laughed and turned back towards Faith, who was in her swing at the end of the kitchen. Pointing to her with a single finger, he said, "I'm on to you, tiny Novak." She blinked slowly in response, not amused in the slightest.

I took a deep, shaky breath, still feeling as if nothing had been resolved.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Serra

I was fucking exhausted. As soon as I got home, I stripped the dirty hunt clothes I wore, showered and wanted nothing more than to pass out in bed. Levi, Charlotte, and Sam were gone when I walked in the door, but I was too tired to worry about it. They were probably doing something domestic, like grocery shopping. I hated to do that kind of shit.

As soon as I was close enough to our bed, I let my body collapse and fell into the covers.

I hadn't been asleep long when I heard the chaos of my kids and husband come back through the front door. Johnny barked, waking me from the deep sleep I had already fallen into and I turned towards the doorway, waiting for Levi to come stumbling up the stairs to find me.

"Momma!" he called, knowing that Dean and I were home. "Momma!"

"I'm upstairs," I answered, burying my face in the pillow, but I couldn't stop the smile that found my lips, hearing my kid's voice.

Sam carried Charlie, following Levi up the steps and grinned when he saw my face. "How'd it go?" Sammy asked, sinking into the mattress next to me.

I shrugged, not bothering to try and sit up since Levi sat on my back, holding me down. "Fine," I replied. "Dean got tossed out a second story window."

Sam chuckled and shook his head, knowing from the tone of my voice that his brother was fine. I rolled; sending Levi giggling to the side and Sam laid Charlie on my chest. She was drooling and it landed on my cheek as my daughter stared at me in open-mouthed wonderment.

I turned my face away from Charlie to avoid the spittle the might be coming for my open mouth next and tried to sit up with Levi still trying to climb on me. Finally looking at Sam, I furrowed my eyebrows, seeing how tired he looked. If I was exhausted, there was no descriptor for what my husband was.

"Why are you so tired?" I asked, staring at him. "How much did she keep you up?"

Sammy shrugged. "I got about four hours a night," he replied. "Same that I used to get, hunting all the time."

"Sam," I started, shaking my head. "You're not a full-time hunter anymore. You're a college professor. You shouldn't look like you went through the ringer just because you stayed up a few nights with your newborn."

He rubbed his face. "I didn't think I looked that bad," he said. "She's a crier. Not happy with anything except being held, all the time." Sammy chuckled ironically. "Sounds like Everett."

"Don't even say stuff like that," I muttered, holding our four month old. "Alright, well, I've got a nap under my belt. I'll take her for a bit. You should try to sleep for a bit."

"I've got class tonight," he said, glancing at his watch. "My Saturday lecture wraps tonight."

"Cancel it!" I said, standing from the bed and helping Levi jump down. "What are you gonna do, teach to the very last moment?"

He shrugged again.

"Let it go, Sam. Priorities. Get some sleep."

…

Six hours later, Sammy was still sleeping and Charlotte had yet to even doze. She was wide-eyed, watching me carefully the entire time I held her. If I tried to put her down, she would wail pathetically until I came to scoop her back up. Levi gave up around eight-thirty that night and I tucked him in shortly before Sammy had come down for a sandwich.

"Feel any better?" I asked, bouncing Charlie on my hip as I tried to put the rest of the groceries away.

"Not really," he answered. "I think I'm fighting something off. I've got a pretty bad headache."

I handed him a cup of water and a plate with the other half of my grilled cheese. "Eat this, drink that, and go back to bed." I pressed my lips together as he tried to smile weakly at me. "I need you in ready-mode. I can't handle this girl on my own."

Sam smiled at me and kissed me on the cheek, touching Charlie's face lovingly as he walked by. "Sure you can," he answered quietly. "Look at you go, right now." He ate the rest of my sandwich in two bites and tossed the paper plate into the trash can, waving vaguely at me as he headed back upstairs.

There was a knock on the back door and I turned, smiling and waving at Grace as she walked in. "Hey," she greeted, holding my youngest niece. "Dean said you two work well together."

"His limit is three days with me, though," I answered, smiling. "He was about ready to shoot me, there towards the end, especially after I barged my way into the bathroom to pee while he was taking a shower."

"We have _literally_ no boundaries as a family, do we?" Grace asked.

I shook my head proudly. "Sammy's up there, trying to take a nap. You could always go change in front of him."

"I'm good, thanks. Almost cheating on my husband with an angel is enough for me."

I had my back to my sister as I began to empty the dishwasher and almost didn't hear what she said, but as I processed the sentence again, I turned and raised my eyebrows at her. "What?" I asked.

Grace sighed and shook her head, laying Faith in Charlie's bouncer that sat on top of the kitchen table. She watched us carefully, her blue eyes narrowed as if she was judging her mother for what she was about to tell me. "I finally told Dean about me and Cas."

"What, about the grace cuddles?" I asked, making a face. "I thought there was nothing to tell."

She rolled her eyes and rubbed her face, trying to make sense in her mind before she continued. "There's not. I mean, there could have been, but there's not."

"Grace, did you sleep with Cas?" I couldn't help the surprised and judgemental stare I gave my sister.

She turned to face me and pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth, like she did when she was trying to lie, but was unsuccessful. It was her one and only tell. "We toss that word around a lot," she answered, furrowing her eyebrows. "I mean, he wasn't even in his vessel. He couldn't have."

"Grace."

"No, we didn't screw," she spat. "I know we didn't, but why do I still feel like I cheated on Dean?"

I turned to put Charlie down in her stroller next to Faith and then turned away from identical sets of blue eyes, staring at the both of us as we discussed Grace's supposed infidelity. "Then what, exactly, did you do with Cas?"

Grace slumped into the chair at the kitchen table and rubbed her face again. "Nothing," she whined. "Something." She shook her head. "I don't know. No, nothing."

"Grace," I repeated.

"It felt intimate because he was there when I was vulnerable. He touched me differently than Dean touches me…it was…I don't know, Serra. It didn't feel that wrong until Dean asked if we slept together." Grace leaned back in her chair and stared at me with sad eyes. "We didn't do the deed, but I still feel guilty."

I shrugged. "So tell him," I said, not seeing the problem. "Did you feel like you had to get back at him for those other women?"

"If I had, I would have slept with Cas."

I made a face, not seeing the attraction to the angel whatsoever, but he and Grace shared some sort of bond that I didn't understand. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that I didn't have wings. I scrunched up my face and phrased my sentence in the form of a question, "So maybe you should have slept with Cas?"

"Ugh, Serra, you're no help at all," she said, getting up from the chair and striding around the room. "Sleeping or not sleeping with Cas isn't the point. The point is that I feel guilty every time his name is brought up and I can't understand what it is that we even did!"

"What did you do?"

"Goddammit, Serra."

I splayed my hands, feeling my voice raise in pitch, "I'm just trying to understand! You're talking about grace and intimacy…I don't understand any of it! I'm human! If you touch, you touch. If you fuck, you fuck. There's no middle ground." I watched my sister continue to pace and I shook my head, completely at a loss. "Look," I ventured. "If another man, not an angel, had touched you the way that Cas grace-touched you, would you have been cheating on Dean?"

"Another man couldn't have touched me the same way that Cas did."

I put my hands on my hips, tilting my head. "Was it sexual?"

"Sometimes."

"Did you come?"

Grace made a face. "Serra."

I pressed harder, lifting my eyebrows. "Did you?"

Pressing her tongue against the back of her teeth again, Grace sighed as she licked her lips, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Grace Winchester, you little slut."

Grace turned away from me, running her hands through her hair and shaking her head slowly. "It wasn't like that, though. It was more like Cas…assisted a process that I started."

I held up my hands. "Grace, you need to stop talking. I don't see what you see about your attraction or non-attraction over Cas and going down this road might be a step or two over our sisterly-share safe zone." I watched my sister slump into the chair behind her and lay her head on the tabletop. "Whatever you and Cas did or didn't do, it's over now, right?"

She nodded her head from her position on the table.

"And it won't be repeated?"

Grace agreed, shaking her head.

"Then let it go. You have Dean back, Cas and you guys are still friends…Faith was born and Everett is happy…you've finally got all your shit together. Don't blow it now because of an angel touch-fest that wasn't even really physical. I'm betting it was more your emotions and raging hormones from being pregnant and the fact that a man was comforting you alone in bed sent you over the edge." Grace rolled her head to face me from the table.

There was a creak of hardwood floor behind me and unsurprised, I turned to see the tan trench coat swinging in my kitchen as Castiel appeared out of nowhere. I sighed, shaking my head. "Really? You helped my sister cheat on her husband?"

Castiel shut his eyes momentarily and shook his head, looking disappointed. "She didn't cheat on Dean. My touch was simply comforting and what she needed the most at the time. There was no desire through infidelity. Her guilt is fueled by the fact that she is still angry with Dean for being with other women."

"I don't want to still be angry at him. I know it wasn't him, Cas, it was the spell," Grace said from her place at my kitchen table. "I don't think it's guilt about being angry with Dean. It's guilt that I know better and we shouldn't have done what we did. We crossed a line."

Stepping towards my sister, Cas took a slow breath, furrowing his eyebrows over his piercing blue eyes. "You told me you were not uncomfortable."

"I wasn't," Grace answered, sitting up to face him. "Not until I tried to explain to Dean what it meant."

"Why did you feel compelled to tell Dean?"

"Because we don't have secrets, Cas, and every time he brings you up, I feel like I'm hiding something." Grace ran her hands through her blonde hair again and I watched her battle with what to do. "I want to let it go, but I don't know how to lose the feeling of betrayal I have." She got up and paced around the room once again. "And every time I try to tell him or show him what happened, he shrugs me off, telling me that it's not a big deal and that he forgives me."

I shrugged and glanced at Castiel's reaction. His mirrored mine, still harboring confusion. "Then why are we still talking about it?"

"Because he doesn't understand what it felt like," she replied, sighing. "He needs to understand."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean

I woke up alone in bed, the darkness of midnight still hanging around me. Grace's place next to me was cold, telling me that she had been up for awhile. I rolled over in bed, trying to listen for where my wife was. I didn't know if it was because I was tired or getting old, but I couldn't hear her, so I got up, pulled on a shirt, and padded out into the living room.

She was sitting in the dark, on the couch in the living room, staring off into space. Faith was asleep on her chest, curled into a tiny ball, and if Grace's bright blue eyes hadn't flicked to my movement, I would have thought she was having a vision, like she used to all those years ago.

"You okay?" I whispered, approaching her slowly.

Grace nodded silently, still staring off into the dim. I had the impression that she didn't want to make eye contact with me and I sat down on the coffee table across from her, taking one of her hands and holding it in both of my own.

"Then why are you sitting in the dark?" I asked, glancing at the clock. "Serra starts a twenty-four tomorrow, right? Don't you wanna go back to bed?"

"I cheated on you with Cas," she whispered, her blue eyes filling with tears as she pulled her hand away from mine. "I was lonely and exhausted and pregnant with a baby that I didn't know if you would ever want, considering I didn't know if I would ever get you home." Her eyes finally found mine as I watched her mull the words over in her head. "He was comforting and being with him was something that I wish I could undo."

"You said you didn't sleep with him," I replied quietly, my face emotionless.

Grace looked away from me again and took a deep breath. "That's a human term," she answered.

I sat very still, not wanting to break the flow of the conversation I was about to have with my wife. "Then what's the definition of cheating to a nephilim?"

She held out her hand, palm up, and waited expectantly. I stared at it, unwilling to see what she was about to show me. "Dean, please," she said, a tear dripping down her cheek. "I can't let this go until you see." Faith sighed in her sleep, shifting her head on Grace's chest. Her tiny fist curled tighter around one of Grace's tank top straps and I clenched my teeth together once, preparing myself.

Reaching for my wife's hand, I closed my eyes as I held my breath, ready to see the memories that she was about to push into my subconscious.

It was dark; the only light that shined was from the full moon, dancing its way across the field in between our houses and streaming in through the bedroom window. Grace was laying in our bed, watching the light play on the wheat and from the feel of her emotions in the memory; I could tell she had been crying.

It was as if I was watching the scene from Grace's perspective as she lifted her arms to rest them on her rounded belly. I guessed she was around fifteen weeks pregnant, about two weeks before I had managed to claw my way back home.

 _I am sorry, Grace,_ I could hear Cas' voice through her mind as the memory played. _You have to know that Dean would never do that to you willingly._

I knew immediately what Cas was referring to and I was immediately disgusted with myself. I knew there had been a woman right before coming home that I had played pool with and then taken back to the motel room where I had been staying. I had taken advantage of her, taking her to be the sixth woman I…used while married to Grace.

 _I know it's not him,_ Grace answered. _But right now, I hate him for it._

Cas seemed to understand and there was a sensation of a hug without being touched. I could feel the heaviness from what I assumed was Castiel's grace as it would itself around Grace's chest and shoulders. She curled into it, allowing him to comfort her.

I was confused. So far, there had been no indication that Grace had anything to be ashamed of and I was about to attempt to bring that up when the sensation changed. I felt the pressure of Cas' grace shift position, almost as if it cupped her face and touched her hair. She closed her eyes, tears still dripping to her pillow as the feeling shifted once more, tracing the line of her back and her side, dusting along the edges of her belly.

Faith responded almost immediately, with flutters with tiny kicks from within Grace's belly, and Grace smiled inwardly, thinking, _She's going to know your touch more than her own father's._

The words stung and I tried my hardest to take them knowing that at this point in time, Grace didn't know if she was going to get me back from the spell that held me as a demon.

 _I would happily fill in if you needed me to,_ Cas replied, still stroking Grace's hair.

Grace closed her eyes tightly, wiping the tears from her face. _I don't know what I need,_ she answered, sniffing. She was trying to control her emotions as much as she could.

 _I do,_ Cas replied. The sensation changed immediately and Grace closed her eyes, accepting Castiel's change in position. She took a slow, ragged breath and sighed, resigning to the shift.

Cas' grace wound its way down her body, wrapping itself around her in much the same way I did when we were together intimately. I could almost imagine his arms enveloping her waist as he pulled her close, putting pressure on her neck as if he pressed his face closer to her skin, taking her in. She breathed deeply, unwilling to tell him to stop. The pressure was weighted on her entire body now, almost as if he had her pinned, and I could feel it wind her way down her thigh.

"Grace, stop," I said aloud, bringing myself out of her memory. I shut my eyes, pulling myself away from her as I stood from the table, and rubbed my face with both of my hands. "Stop," I repeated, swallowing hard.

Staring at me in the darkness, Grace released the breath she was holding in a sob. "I told you," she whispered. "I just didn't have the words to explain it."

There was a flutter of wings and I glanced up, seeing Castiel appear, standing behind the couch in the light of the kitchen window. He stared at me sadly and lowered his gaze, intent on inspecting the floor.

Grace cried openly now, not bothering to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She glanced back at Cas and tried her best to get control, but when she regained eye contact with me, she lost it entirely.

"I don't know what I was thinking," she gasped. "I wasn't thinking; that's the thing. I was weak and he was there, willing to fill a void that you had left behind."

"Grace," I began, but she cut me off, close to hysterical.

"Dean, please," she cried. "Please don't be angry at him. It was me. It was my fault." The baby stirred in her arms as her mother became more and more emotional. I glanced down at my newborn infant and tears came to my eyes, knowing that if I hadn't come back, if Grace hadn't tricked me into sleeping with her that fateful afternoon so that Cas could knock me out and stop the spell, I might still be out there. Faith might still not know me and I could have been so far gone into being held as a demon, that I would have never been able to find my way back.

I pinched the bridge of my nose with one hand and shook my head, trying to get Grace to stop. "My turn," I said quietly, and shifted my gaze to my wife, seeing only her beautiful face. She froze in place, waiting for me to speak and Cas took a step closer to her, almost in a defensive pattern, ready to protect her if need be. The movement made me ache.

"Grace," I began, not really knowing what to say, "I have told you from the beginning, since you wore those damn red sweats, that if we did this, we would do it for life. My record ain't exactly clean, and honestly, this makes me feel a bit better about abandoning you for almost seventeen weeks during your fourth pregnancy." She furrowed her eyebrows and I waved her off. "No, not that you and Cas did…whatever that was," I answered. "I feel better because Cas was able to fill the void that I left behind."

My gaze shifted to the angel standing my kitchen. "You were there for her when I wasn't," I explained, directing my thoughts towards Cas. "You stepped up and gave her what she needed when I couldn't."

"Dean," his voice was pleading. "It was never vindictive towards you. My actions were only for Grace's best interest."

"I know, that's what I'm talking about," I said, again shifting my attention to Grace. "Like you said before, 'sleeping together' is a human term. I'm human. That wasn't it."

Faith lifted her head, trying her best to stare at Grace, but her mother was too close and she gave up quickly. She turned towards the sound of my voice and my youngest daughter smiled at me, her toothless grin spreading widely across her chubby face.

Without pausing to think, I reached across the open space, and touched my tiny daughter's head, caressing her light brown hair. The familiar electric tingle reached my fingers and I closed my eyes, enjoying the calming sensation. I forgot constantly that Faith was more angel than not and she was helpful in sedating my over-heated emotions.

Sitting down again on the coffee table, I glanced up, staring into my wife's pure blue eyes. "I don't care about what you did with Cas," I began, still keeping my hand on Faith's head. "I care about what you do with me."

She looked confused. "But we—"

"He comforted you. You accepted." I smiled lightly. "We had this conversation already, Grace. My opinions haven't changed." Grace released the lungful of air she held and smiled a watery smile. She nodded once and kissed the top of Faith's head as I leaned in to hug them both. "Now can we talk about something besides you and Cas?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Grace

The clock read two forty-six when I rolled towards it, hearing a tapping sound coming from the kitchen. Dean and I had finally fallen asleep after being tangled and sweaty in our sheets, just like the old days. I had laid next to him, panting and laughing as he had toyed with my fingertips and traced the outlines of my tattoos, his touch leaving a trail of electricity along my skin.

Listening hard, I held my breath, trying to decide what the sound was. _Grace,_ Serra's voice echoed through my head. _Grace, please wake up. It's too embarrassing to wake up Dean._

I was out of bed before she had finished her thought and I was answering her as I pulled on a robe, covering my body as best I could from the chill of the night air. _What's wrong?_ I asked. _What happened?_

As I walked into the kitchen, I yanked open the back door and Serra was holding a red-faced, snotty-nosed Charlotte out to me, forcing me to take her, and without preamble, she pushed past me, wiping her face on the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

I glanced down at my niece and bounced her a few times, trying my best to get an understanding of the situation. "What the hell, Serra? Are you okay?"

"I can't do this, Grace," Serra was speaking quickly and quietly. I had a hard time following her because she was already pacing around the living room. "She cries all the fucking time. I can't catch a break. She's not happy when she eats, she's not happy when she sleeps. It's like just _existing_ pisses her off." Serra took a shaky breath and collapsed on the couch behind her, holding her face in her hands. "I got more sleep when I had to share a bed with Dean on the hunt."

I sighed, pressing my lips together and hugging Charlotte closer to me. The baby was burning up, mostly from being so upset. Luckily, now, the shock of being shoved into her aunt's arms was enough to calm her for the time being. "Serra," I began, but she cut me off before I had a chance to go farther.

"No, Grace," she said, looking up at me from behind her hands. "No. The kid hates me. She calms down long enough for Sam to think I'm crazy, but then, as soon as he goes to bed, she starts screaming again and nothing I do fixes it." Serra let out a quick breath of air that sounded too much like a sob. I glanced at my sister and realized that a tear had dripped down her cheek, but she wiped it away before I had a chance to process it. "I do this for a fucking living, Grace. The babies at the NICU aren't nearly this difficult, and we're worried about them living through the night. Why can't I calm down my own kid?"

Charlotte was wide-eyed, watching me stare at her mother with her blue eyes reflecting my own. I smiled down at her, seeing so much of Faith in her…it was alarming how much they resembled each other. Carefully, I walked towards my sister and sat down on the coffee table in front of her. I reached out my hand, touching her bare knee through the rip in her sweatpants and sighed, sending as many calming sensations as I could towards her.

"Sere," I began, leaning forward to catch her hazel stare. "Charlie is like this because you were like this. She is as high strung as you are. You have _got_ to calm down."

"How the hell am I supposed to calm down when she is screaming all of the damn time?"

"By bringing her over here and walking away for a bit," I replied. "Just take a break. You're stirring each other up! It's like a vicious circle…she gets upset, and then you get upset because she's upset. The cycle repeats." I licked my lips and chuckled. "How's it feel to get a taste of your own medicine?"

"I wasn't this bad."

"Yeah you were. You made Mom absolutely crazy."

Serra sighed and leaned into the couch cushions and took a deep breath. "I'm just so fucking tired."

I nodded and stared back down at Charlie. "She is too, look at her." Glancing at the clock again, I sighed, knowing that Serra would be heading to work in less that three hours to start her twenty-four hour shift. "Go home. Get some sleep. You'll feel better if you just walk away for a bit."

"Grace," she whined, shaking her head. "I don't want to take advantage of you."

"You already have. Go home."

…

The alarm on Dean's phone beeped quietly at six-thirty and he rolled to swipe the screen, shutting it off. Charlotte gurgled next to him, playing with her toes and I smiled, knowing immediately that he would think she was Faith.

"What, did you get jealous?" he asked her as he turned towards the two of us. "That's so unlike you, little Miss Pot Roast."

I giggled sleepily, turning my head towards my husband. "That's because that's Charlotte."

"Why do we have a fifth child?" Dean asked immediately, deadpan.

Laughing again, I sat up in bed and turned to face him. "Serra is not handling her well. They're not sleeping and she was close to hysterical when she dropped her off last night."

"Why didn't I hear any of this?" Dean asked, leaning against the pillows once again, rubbing his face.

"Because you're rusty," I answered, stretching. "And you tend to knock out pretty hard after a session like last night's." I winked at him.

Immediately, Dean reached up and grabbed my arm and pulled me back down on the bed with him, Charlie's blue eyes following our every move. He kissed me, hard, holding my head with his hand and winding his fingers into my hair. I sighed in contentment and closed my eyes, enjoying the moment.

After hearing Charlotte coo, Dean let me go and glanced at her. "So how long do we have the new recruit? We're kinda out of bedrooms."

"We could always have them start doubling up."

"Don't get any ideas," he answered, pushing me away nervously. "Four is too many as it is."

I could hear the kids' footsteps as they ran to each other's rooms, back and forth down the hallway upstairs. I grinned at him, nodding. "Agreed, completely," I said, bending down to pick up Charlotte. "I don't think it'll be a regular thing. Serra just needs to get her feet under her with going back to work, hunting, and having two kids all at the same time."

"Speaking of hunting," Dean replied, changing subjects as he followed me out of the bedroom. "You and I would make a helluva team. Let's give it a shot next time, huh?" He had brought it up before, and I had shrugged him off then, trying to avoid the fact that I was uncomfortable with leaving six kids with Sam and Serra.

"I thought we agreed to have one of us home every time, just in case."

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know," he answered. "But what I wouldn't give to see you on a regular, old-fashioned hunt. Talk about a turn on."

"Yeah, we'll see," I ventured, staring the coffee pot as I shook a bottle for Charlotte. I could hear Liberty's thoughts as she debated about opening the baby gate at the top of the steps, but decided against it, knowing that it was safer to have one of us do it. "Lib wants out," I added, not looking up.

Dean glanced at the top of the stairs and grinned, seeing our eldest daughter smile back at him. Glory was fighting for attention too, and stood on her tiptoes, trying to make eye contact with Dean.

"Hey, Meatloaf," Dean greeted as he got to the top of the steps. Lib hugged his leg and then stumbled down the stairs, trying to get to me as fast as she was able to. "Morning, Glory Bee," I could hear his deep voice continue as he picked Glory up and carried her down the hall to change her diaper. "Let's go get the other two rugrats before I have to make the trip twice, huh?"

Liberty rubbed her eyes and smiled up at me silently, as she did so often. Lib had never been vocal; she had never needed to be. She had always been able to push thoughts and emotions towards us by touching our faces, but as she grew older, she could do it without the physical contact. Her abilities were growing.

"How'd you sleep, baby?" I asked, giving the bottle to Charlie.

Liberty nodded and shrugged, leaning her head in her hands. _I'm still tired,_ she thought.

"Why?" I asked. "Maybe an earlier bedtime? School is wearing you out, now."

She shook her head as she watched me prepare her Eggo waffles. _Dreams,_ she answered. _I have a lot of dreams._

I tried to hold back the surprise that took me as I stared up at my green-eyed daughter and tried to sound only semi-interested. "What do you dream about, baby?"

She sighed and took a drink of the milk I set down in front of her. _A woman,_ she began. _I dream about a woman with red hair and leather boots that fights with Daddy._

I swallowed, trying to keep my emotions at bay. Liberty's dreams reminded me a lot of my own, but she was still so young. It seemed much too early for us to have to worry about Liberty having visions and if I allowed the worry to seep into my mind, Lib would get worried as well and for all I knew, they could just be dreams.

"Will you show me?" I asked, tilting my head calmly.

Lib closed her eyes and focused on the memories of the dreams she had been having. They were jagged and incomplete, but they were exactly what she described. There was a woman, around my age, with golden red hair and she wore black leather motorcycle boots and carried a machete of some kind, remarkably resembling The Knight Blade.

She reminded me of Dean's memories of Abaddon.

There were three different scenes; the first was at a gas station as Dean was pulling in to refill the Impala. She watched from afar, tilting her head in child-like curiosity with the blade hanging from her hip. Dean didn't seem to notice her and went along with his business: swiping his credit card at the pump, and leaning on the deck lid of the car, not knowing that he was being watched. The second scene played out as if it was in slow motion. The red head had her hair pulled back into a ponytail and smiled shamelessly at Dean, winking at him as he smiled and filled out paper work at the shop. She looked like she was a customer; describing what she wanted done to a giant, lowered Lincoln Continental. He took notes, nodding along as if he was completely comfortable with the arrangement.

The third scene is what Liberty was obviously obsessing about. The woman held the machete at her side, grinning evilly at my husband, who was bleeding from the forehead and nose, waiting for her to make her move. She swiped with her blade across his chest and he grimaced in pain, blood dripping to the asphalt below. Dean countered immediately with a swipe from his own blade: one of Serra's designs. It was curved and ripped the bottom half of the woman's leather jacket completely in half.

The memory ended and I opened my eyes, staring at Liberty, and deciding if I should try lying to her about if I was worried or not. I opted to be vague, knowing that she would be able to read my mind. "That's interesting, Lib, but I don't think it's something you need to worry about. Daddy can handle himself."

She nodded and glanced up at me, still with the same expression of doubt that her father had. For the first time since sitting at the table across from me, she spoke, her voice quiet. "You told me to always tell you the truth," she said. "That should be a rule everyone follows."

"I am telling the truth, kiddo. Daddy knows what to do if something ever happens. We'll keep an eye out for that woman, but for now, all you need to do is worry about you and your brother and sisters."

Liberty's green eyes narrowed at me, making her look much older than she was. Having a five-year-old psychic wasn't easy. Her waffles popped out of the toaster, making Charlie jump and whimper in my arms. I bounced her a couple of times as Dean came down the stairs, holding Faith, with Everett at his side, trying to get as close as he could to his infant sister.

"We might as well move his bed into her room," Dean stated, staring at me and shaking his head. "Every time I walk in there, he's passed out, plastered against her crib, trying to touch her." He glanced down at our son, continuing, "You're gonna end up with back problems or something."

I chuckled and nodded to the bottle on the counter. "Will you feed Faith? I'm gonna go lay out Lib's clothes for school and jump into the shower."

"You're leaving me alone with five kids?" Dean's voice sounded panicked. "What do I do with five kids?"

"I won't be gone long, you big baby," I answered. "Ten minutes. Turn on the TV and let them stare at the screen if you're scared."

"I'm not scared."

I rolled my eyes and sauntered out of the kitchen as I laid Charlie next to Faith in the pack and play near the coffee table. "Faith is the one in the pink pajamas," I said, ignoring his comment. "Make sure you can tell them apart."

"Make sure you can tell them apart," Dean repeated to himself mockingly as I walked into our bedroom. He took the few steps towards the playpen and stared down at the babies. "I can tell you apart just fine." He glanced at Liberty, who was happily munching on her waffles at the table as Glory and Everett battled over a stuffed animal in the corner. "Momma said pink right?"

Liberty nodded.

"They're both in pink," he replied, completely deadpan. "What's my kid doing in pink?"

"I like pink, Daddy," Liberty said, getting down from the chair at the table.

"Yeah," Dean answered, nodding, "but you also know the differences between a sixty-seven and sixty-eight Impala."

Lib shrugged her shoulders as she carried her waffle to stand next to her father and stare at her sister and cousin through the netting. "That's Faith," she said, her mouth full of waffle. "She's got the little flower on her shirt."

"Faith, flower," Dean repeated. "Don't tell your mother."

Liberty grinned up at him as he bent to pick up the youngest member of his family. "All right, Pot Roast," he said, walking towards the couch. "Breakfast time."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sam

"What do you mean, she's having dreams?" I asked as Serra whispered to me over the phone. "And why are you whispering?"

"I'm supposed to be in a staff meeting," Serra answered, glancing around nervously from her place in the dark staff lounge. "But Grace told me this morning that Lib had a dream about this woman with red hair that tries to kill Dean. Wouldn't that be Abaddon?"

I leaned back in my office chair at my desk and sighed. "Honestly with his track record, it could be a lot of people," I sighed. "But why would Lib be dreaming about something that already happened? Wouldn't it make sense that she would be dreaming about something that's coming?"

Serra clicked her tongue, irritated with me. "I don't want to acknowledge the possibility of my niece being able to do the same freaky stuff as my sister can."

"I hate to break it to you, but it's probably inevitable, considering she's half nephilim and half Mark of Cain," I replied, running a hand through my hair and leaning forward on my desk, wracking my brain, trying to come up with something that would calm Serra down. "Liberty already has some psychic tendencies as it is. When did Grace start to show signs?"

"I was too young," Serra answered. "I don't remember. I know she was touch-seeing by the time she was fourteen, but I have no idea what else she could do. She was secretive around me for awhile."

"Wouldn't you be?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a joy to be around."

I chuckled and shook my head, glancing up at my first student that walked into my classroom. I turned to look at the clock above my desk and realized that it was getting close to class beginning and I shook my head, trying to wrap up the phone call with my hyper-analytical wife. "Besides," I reminded her, "if Grace isn't concerned about it, why are you?"

Serra spoke quietly, but I could hear the annoyance in her voice towards me. "Because if I'm not concerned, no one is, and we end up letting our guard down, and someone gets killed."

I sighed again, standing to face my class as it continued to fill with students. "Alright," I conceded. "We'll talk about this more later, but my class is about to start."

"They're college students," Serra replied. "Cancel class and help me obsess about this."

"Bye, Serra," I finally said, "Love you."

"Ugh," Serra snorted into the phone. "Fine."

I hung up the phone and turned towards my students, smiling as they waited patiently for me to begin.

…

My wife, if nothing else, was predictable. As the last student filed out of my classroom, I chuckled to myself as my phone began to vibrate across the desk. Serendipity's name flashed across the screen, along with a picture of her holding both of our children.

Picking up my phone, I smiled to myself as I greeted her. "Yes, dear?"

There was no hesitation. Serra jumped right back into the conversation as we hadn't been off the phone for two hours. "But if it _is_ Abaddon, how the hell is she back?"

"Serra," I sighed, sitting down after closing the door to my classroom, "it's not Abaddon. It can't be. She's dead."

"How often does a Big Bad stay dead in our universe?" Serra asked, shaking her head against the phone. I could almost picture her there in the NICU, watching the babies and holding the phone against her shoulder and her ear, still trying to do her job while she obsessed about Liberty's dreams.

"She's dead," I repeated. "Let's focus on the fact that Lib is five and probably too young to be showing too many talents just yet. Her abilities are probably going to be diluted because she isn't completely angelic, or even half. Dean doesn't have any special cosmic talents, other than pissing people off."

Serra was shaking her head again. "I don't know," she said quietly, lost in thought. "Whatever it is, I don't like it."

"Take a step back, Warrior of Heaven," I soothed. "When you get home, go make some more bullets with that Stone of yours and make yourself feel better."

"It's Warrior of Fucking Heaven," Serra sighed dramatically. "And I already made more last night after I dropped Charlie off with Grace."

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to figure out what I missed. "When was that?"

Serra paused, thinking. "I dunno," she explained. "Around two?"

I rolled my eyes. "Charlie is not that bad," I sighed. "You two just need to learn each other a bit better. You've gotta stop taking advantage of your sister."

"I'm going to hang up on you," Serra spat.

I laughed, leaning back in my chair. "Promises, promises," I sighed, enjoying the flirtation with my wife. It was nice to know that after everything we had been through, we were still the same as we had always been.

Clicking her tongue again, Serra couldn't help the giggle I heard. "I actually have to hang up now," she sighed. "Baby Silva is crying. Again."

"You should be used to it, considering."

"Silva has an excuse," Serra answered without hesitation. "She had a heart valve put in yesterday. Your daughter is just irritable."

I smiled softly, "Just like her mother."

…

Grace

I held the phone to my ear and listened as the other end rang, waiting patiently for Dean to answer. Finally, he picked up. "Hey, gorgeous," Dean greeted, a little out of breath. "What's up?"

"Why are you out of breath?"

"Because my phone was across the room and I was under the Stingray," he paused for half a beat and I could hear the smile in his voice, "And I'm thirty-eight."

"You're hardly out of shape," I said, arguing and picturing my husband's body. I smiled to myself.

Dean chuckled and replied, "Yeah, well, I'm getting soft. Need a few more hunts under my belt." He was distracted for a moment after hearing someone speak to him over the loudspeaker in the background, and then yelled to Stuart, a member of his team at the shop, "Stu! I'm on the phone! Can you come sign for these parts?" Dean turned his attention back to me and asked, "What's up? Miss me already?"

I grinned at Dean's easy banter, "Always. But it's not why I'm calling."

"Lay it on me, sugar."

Flipping the official-looking manila folder in front of me open, I took a deep breath, getting down to business. "The bank is sending the tax guys out later. They said they need all the invoices from last appointment until now, but some of those are when you were…"

"A demon?"

I nodded and pressed my lips together. "Yeah," I answered. "I mean, I was going to say when you were gone, but that fits too."

Dean chuckled ironically and I knew, deep in his subconscious, he still hadn't forgiven himself. "When are you coming? How many kids are you bringing?"

"I'll swing by later. Serra and Sam have pick-up duty today for the bigs, but Faith and Charlie are still here with me. Jody and Em are both busy, so I won't be there until around four because I'd like to represent the shop semi-professionally and kid-free." I sighed, trying to gather my thoughts. "Start pulling invoices if you have time. I want to try and be ready for them this year. I'm tired of looking like we don't know what we're doing."

"Once Faith and Charlie get bigger, we can put them in daycare, and I can put your high-priced education to work," Dean grinned. "It would be nice having you around here."

I smiled, glad that my husband had yet to tire of me. "I'll see you soon," I replied.

"Sounds good," Dean answered. "We can make out in my office."

"I guess," I said, trying to sound uninterested. Dean laughed and I could hear the loudspeaker call his name once more. "Go back to work, babe," I continued. "I'll see you this afternoon."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Grace

"She hasn't cried since she got here," I explained to my sister as I walked around the kitchen, trying to get dinner ready ahead of schedule so Serra had less to complain about when she and Sam came to take care of the kids so we could prepare for the shop's tax appointment. "I'm starting to think it's you."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence, big sister," Serra shot back at me. "You make me feel just like the mother of the year."

I shrugged as I glanced back at the babies that were happily munching on Cheerios as they sat in the highchairs in the kitchen, "I haven't heard a peep out of her, Sere."

Serra clicked her tongue as she walked down the hallway of the hospital, stopping twice to sign clipboards from other nurses as they stopped her. "It can't just be me," she sighed. "There's gotta be something else that triggers her."

"She feels safe here, with the other kids," I answered, stirring the pot of macaroni and cheese. "She likes the chaos when they're all together and when it's just the two babies, Faith calms her down. If we're being honest, Faith calms _me_ down. She's just…" I shrugged, at a loss on how to explain my youngest. "She's just that way. Soothing."

Serra pushed her way through the doors into the wash room, nodding once at the supervising doctor, "Yeah, well, you can keep her," she answered. "I'm headed into surgery. I'll see you later."

As quickly as I could, knowing that she would hang up almost immediately, I shouted, "Don't forget that you're picking up the twins."

"Yes, Mom."

Chuckling to myself, I shook my head and set down the phone. "Alright, ladies," I began, talking to my daughter and niece. "Who wants some strained peas?"

…

My phone was ringing from down stairs and I rolled my eyes as I finished changing Faith's diaper. Concentrating carefully on who it might be, I could almost hear Serendipity as she waited for me to pick up the phone.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, thinking, _Do you ever just work at your job?_

 _What?_ Serra asked immediately. _Of course I work. I can do two things at once. Why aren't you answering your phone?_

 _I'm upstairs, changing diapers._

Serra didn't seem to care that we weren't actually speaking over the phone and continued as if I was standing right next to her. _If that woman isn't Abaddon, who is she?_

 _Serra,_ I sighed, _Lib is five. I'm not worried about her dreams yet. She's too young. Besides, until they start repeating, I'm not going to concern myself too much. Stop obsessing._

 _When did you start having dreams?_ Serra asked, ignoring my ambivalence towards the subject.

I shrugged, staring down at Faith, who had her tiny eyebrows furrowed in concentration, almost as if she was listening to us as we spoke telepathically. _I don't know, Serra,_ I sighed. _I don't really remember. I feel like I've always had dreams._

Serra didn't answer and my phone began to ring again. "Holy hell," I whispered, mostly to myself. "Your aunt is exhausting."

By the time I got downstairs, Serra's call had gone to voicemail, but within seconds, she was calling again. "What?" I asked, picking up the phone.

"It's too hard to talk like that," Serra answered. "Besides, I look like I'm talking to myself."

"You don't want to look crazier than you already are," I commented. "Hurry this up," I continued. "I'm putting the girls down for a nap so I can shower before I go to the shop."

"Oh yeah, that's tonight," Serra replied, checking her watch. "I keep forgetting. I'd still like to know how you guys are staying afloat with you not working."

"It's not that hard. We live in Kansas."

Serra asked, "The shop is doing that well?"

"We're the only body-slash-mechanic in the county specializing in old muscle. Plus, Dean is really good at what he does," I answered. "I knew once we got going, we'd be fine." Serra's line was quiet for more than a few seconds. I took a breath and asked, "Sere?"

"I'm here," she pouted. "Big House, big family, big shop."

"What, are you jealous?"

Serra sighed. "Not jealous as much as…well, yeah. I'm jealous. Sam and I both have to work to afford what we have. I don't really know how you're pulling this off with four kids."

"My student loans are gone. You went to very expensive medical school and your husband just finished his very expensive master's," I ventured. "The Chevelle's work was done at the shop for free. The Tank was a total loss that Dean pieced back together. Neither one of us have any credit cards."

"Alright, alright," Serra whined. "You can stop."

"Don't forget to pick up the kids," I reminded her again, smiling. "I made mac and cheese for the kids, and you if you want it."

"Of course I want it."

"And stop calling me. You are at your place of employment, keeping tiny children alive."

Serra laughed. "They're fine. Silva is the only one I'm worried about right now."

"Her name is Dominique."

"Not yet, it's not," Serra replied. "She gets her first name when she checks out of my ward."

I glanced at the clock and motioned with my hand, making tiny circles in the air with my index finger. "Okay," I said, wrapping up the call. "I'm going now so I can make sure that my hunter knows how to add."

Serra didn't seem to want to let me go, "He mention going on a hunt with you?"

"Again."

Serra laughed. "He's already sick of me," she replied. "I don't know why. I am an absolute joy."

"You're a pain in the ass," I said, laying Faith down in her crib. "Make sure Lib does her homework."

"Yes, Mom."

…

Serra was home with the twins at four, just as promised, but I didn't pause as I tossed her the baby monitor and I strode past her, headed towards the Chevelle. "Faith is still sleeping, but Charlie has been talking to herself for about twenty minutes. She's probably hungry."

I bent down to kiss Glory and Everett as they ran past me and into the house. "Of course she is," Serra commented. "She's gonna see me and start crying."

"Take Glory in there with you," I added over my shoulder. "She's always spreading happiness around." I got in my purple metal-flake Chevelle and started her up, reveling in the sound of the throttle. "We'll be back later, but I don't know when. Thanks, sis."

Serra waved vaguely at me and headed towards the Big House. I backed up, threw the Chevelle in gear and giggled to myself as I punched it down our gravel driveway.

…

"Hey, boss-lady," Tony greeted me at the door as I walked into the shop. He stood there, holding it open and turned to admire my backside as I tried to ignore the thoughts running through his mind.

I rolled my eyes, slinking past the employee that always gave me the creeps. "Hi, Tony," I answered, heading straight for Dean's office. "We're not paying you to answer the door."

"Yeah," he replied, still mentally undressing me. "Yeah, sure."

I pushed Dean's door open with my back and shook Tony off as I set down the coffee I picked up for us and sat at my husband's desk, thumbing through and rearranging his stacks of invoices and order forms. I was pleased that he followed directions so quickly, but shaking my head, I wondered how he found anything in the stacks he had scattered around the desk.

As I began sorting them by date, the office door opened and Dean stood in the doorway, grease on his face and his flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off The Mark of Cain. He grinned at me and then furrowed his eyebrows, "Hey, hey, hey," he started, walking over to where I was sorting. "What are you doing? I had those organized."

"How?" I asked, glancing up at him. "Some of these are two or three years old."

"Yeah, I know," he answered, taking a stack out of my hands and getting grease smudges across the white sheets. "But I knew what order they were in. While I was looking for last year's stuff, I realized I could look for the invoices of those brake pads from that manufacturer up in Detroit. They're crap and I want to make sure they know it."

I closed my eyes and nodded, realizing that they had been sorted in a way Dean understood. "I'm sorry, babe. I'll put them back."

Dean grinned and shook his head. "It's all good," he sighed. "Thanks for the coffee, gorgeous. I could use the pick me up."

I smiled at him, winking at him from across the desk.

Dean's lips tugged into the half smile I loved so dearly, forcing his dimples to show. "Serra put up a fight about babysitting?"

I shrugged and smiled. "Always."

Using the rag he held to wipe his face, Dean nodded and smiled. "I like having you at my beck and call, though. I could get used to this."

"It's what you have always wanted in a wife," I mocked, shaking my head.

"You know it," he whispered, leaning in with that smug little grin.

He kissed me, pressing his body into mine and forcing me backwards, leaning against his desk. As I came up for air minutes later, I giggled. "You're covered in grease and you smell like a lawn mower."

"I know. It turns you on, doesn't it?" He attacked my neck while reaching for the lock on his office door.

I tried to resist him, but I was already a puddle at his feet. Turning his attention completely back to me, Dean wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me up onto his desk and knocking two stacks of papers off of the surface. "You're knocking your piles off," I managed as I closed my eyes.

"You already messed them up," he growled, leaning into me harder. The scruff of his face burned as he forced me onto the desk and I didn't mind whatsoever. "At least this way, I get something out of it."

I gasped as he bit down on my ear, reaching for my belt and undoing the buckle without having to look down. From there, he pulled off my top, up and over my head, and dumped it on the floor. It landed on a stack of invoices that had been on the desk only moments before. I tried to tug his flannel down, off of his shoulders, but he pulled away, not allowing me to do anything. Tilting his head, he smirked at me once again and pointed his finger. "You keep your hands to yourself," he murmured, kissing me deeply.

I rolled my eyes, trying to stay focused, "We're supposed to be prepping for our tax appointment."

"We're kid free," Dean grumbled. "I'm not wasting it."

I couldn't help but allow a quiet moan to escape my lips, trying to hard to control myself, but my husband was relentless. Before I knew it, Dean had shrugged out of his flannel and was half way out of his simple black tee shirt, driving me wild because he already had me down to my bra and panties. His biceps flexed as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and my waist and when he joined me on top of the desk, the rest of the papers went flying to the floor. He used one hand to pull his shirt over his head and to push his jeans and boxers to the floor and I worked to shimmy my way out of my underwear.

Finding our rhythm was never something we had to work at. Dean and I fit together like puzzle pieces and the only thing that consumed my mind was my husband as his hands dusted every part of me; tugging my hips closer to his own and supporting my head as we kissed deeply, his fingers tangling in my hair. I wrapped my leg around his and tried to keep my voice as quiet as I could; knowing the rest of the Winchester Family Auto crew was behind the locked, thin, fiberboard door.

"Hey, Deano!" Stuart's voice crashed through our passion a few minutes?...hours?...later and was intent on asking a question. "You in there?"

Dean's voice grumbled somewhere deep in his chest as he resisted answering, still intent on our tempo.

"Dean?" Stuart was insistent.

His growl vibrated across my chest and he finally broke contact with me long enough to answer. "What?" he yelled, pausing long enough to make me desperate. "I'm in the middle of something."

I moved under Dean, causing just enough friction to make him gasp. Stuart pushed on relentlessly. "There's a stall on the highway that KHP wants us to pick up since there's no one else around right now. Can I send Tony with the tow-truck?"

"Whatever," Dean grunted as I grinned up at him, still moving my hips with his.

"I saw the Chevelle outside. Grace come?"

Dean licked his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, grinning at Stuart's choice of words. "Uh-huh," was all he could manage as I pulled him closer to me, clawing at his shoulders with my nails. I adjusted beneath him, wrapping my leg tighter around his hip and creating more of the delicious friction that we both wanted so desperately. It happened in an instant. We were both sent into the shockwave of euphoria at once and I pressed my face into his shoulder to keep my cries to a minimum. Dean tensed and gasped into my hair, trying to make it absorb his voice as well.

I sighed heavily, finally catching my breath and smiled up at my husband. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Shop wife," he whispered, kissing me a final time and pushing himself up and off of me. He stumbled slightly; tripping on the clothes piled at the edge of the desk and wiped his face. He was flushed and slightly sweaty, still with grease smudged across his forehead where he obviously had wiped his hand across his face earlier.

I felt the same, peeling myself from the surface of his wooden desk. There were papers stuck to my back and my hair was matted to my neck as I struggled to stand. Dean watched as I pulled my top back on and wrestled with my jeans. After a few tries, I gave up, happy to just sit down in his chair and watch him get dressed.

"I'll bet Cas can't do _that_ ," he remarked with a wink, using the desk to help him balance as he tugged on his remaining boot.

My face flushed, embarrassed, and I looked up at him, trying to hide the pink in my cheeks with a grin. I shook my head. "No, he can't," I replied, standing to lean against Dean. "He's got nothing on you," I whispered, reaching up on my tiptoes to kiss him.

He chuckled and nodded, "He'd better not."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Grace

"So where are the invoices from March and April?" I asked, leaning over my third cup of coffee. "There's February right there and May is over there, but we're missing the months in between."

Dean turned in a full circle, staring at the papers that littered the floor of his office. We had been at this for what seemed like hours and we were no closer to being prepared for the tax appointment we had with the business loan department of the bank three days from now. "I don't know," he whined, rubbing his face. "I feel like that's when all that shit went down with Ouriel."

Hearing his name stung and reflexively, I reached down to touch the cursed-blade scar that was etched through the sugar skull tattoo on my hip. The missing paperwork was from when Dean had been in the clutches of the demon spell and we were close to getting him back. I had no idea where I had put the missing months, but they had to be in this room somewhere.

A quick knock on the open door brought both of our gazes up to Stuart once more. "Hey, guys," he started, smiling. "There's a girl here that wants to see you, boss man."

Dean sighed and popped his neck. "Yeah, alright," he said, glancing at the clock above his desk. It was close to closing time. "I'll be right back, Gracie. Try that cabinet over there." He pointed to the corner of his office where a tall filing cabinet stood, covered in drawings from the waist down. It looked like one (or more) of our kids had taken a permanent marker to it.

As he left the room, I stood and stretched, stepping carefully so that my bare feet would not mess up the neat piles of chronologically stacked paperwork. Making my way over to the cabinet, I also extended my senses to listen to the newcomer to the shop, curiosity taking over me. If I was going to be Shop Wife, I needed to know our clientele.

I pulled open the top drawer and as I thumbed through the files, I could hear my husband greet her and introduce himself. I listened, barely paying attention to what I was looking at.

"Hi," his deep voice wound its way through my mind as I closed my eyes. "Welcome to Winchester Auto Body. I'm Dean. What can I help you with?"

She seemed to sigh a breath of relief, "You're Dean? Dean Winchester?" Her voice was young and exhausted and sounded more than weary. She leaned towards him, almost like she wanted to touch him, to make sure that he actually existed. "I can't believe that you own an auto shop. You own it, right?"

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I'm sorry, I've been looking for you for weeks. So far, three dead ends, and a fraternity brother at Kansas State that thinks mighty highly of you, taking on more than your name."

"Dude," Dean started, backing away from the counter. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm running a business here, so…"

"No, no, no," she cried, holding out her hand, trying to stop him from continuing his path back to me. "Please, just…just wait. Hear me out."

Dean took a deep breath and crossed his arms in front of his chest. I could feel the caution dripping off of him, deciding what to do about the girl that had thrown herself into his path. She couldn't have been more than a teenager.

"Hear you out?" he asked, doubt filling his voice. "Hear you out about what?"

She lowered her voice and leaned closer to him and I could see her through his minds' eye. Her brown hair was stick straight and falling into her face. She was small; the clothes she wore were obviously not fitted for her own lean frame, leading Dean to consider that this girl had been on the run. Her boots were muddy and there was dirt under her fingernails. Now, as he stared at her, he realized that she needed something other than car parts or an overhaul.

Barely above a whisper, she continued, "I need your help. You and your brother…you're the real monster hunters, right?"

Dean's breath caught in his throat and he mentally reached out to me immediately. _Are you hearing this?_ He thought, glancing up in my direction as I still stood in front of his kid-graffiti'ed filing cabinet. I nodded at him, taking a step backwards so that I was in his line of sight.

He lowered his voice and glanced behind him at the guys milling about in the shop. "Yeah, look, we're…we're kinda out of the game."

"No," she pleaded. "You hunted a restless spirit a couple of weeks ago…in Old Town. You were there, I saw you in the paper."

"In the paper?" he repeated, whining. Taking a step back, he shook his head in disappointment. "Gettin' sloppy…" he sighed. "Look," he gestured to their surroundings. "I don't know what you've heard, but I don't think we can help you."

The young girl looked like she had been slapped in the face, shock lined in her delicate features. "But you're Dean Winchester," she repeated.

Dean didn't respond. He simply stared at her, his face sympathetic.

"My brother…my dad. The whole town…they're all…different. I don't know what else to do. Everyone else thinks I'm crazy and they don't even want me around anymore." She ran a hand through her dirty hair, continuing mostly to herself. "If I found you, I never expected you to say no."

Dean's green eyes flicked towards me again and I tilted my head, knowing that as far as she was concerned, she was telling the truth. The images I saw floating through her mind were of people she knew and loved, but they acted as if they didn't know her. She seemed lost and she had no idea what to do next.

"How do you even know about the shop?" Dean asked, stepping closer to his office, putting his body in between the girl and me. "We're not exactly on the grid."

"Google," she answered simply.

My husband suddenly turned towards me, his arms unfolding from his chest. "Google?" he repeated, his voice rising accusingly. "You put us on Google?"

"It was a business tactic!" I yelled back, "You were gone! We needed the push!"

"So you put us on Google?" Dean's eyebrows were raised and he had completely forgotten about the urchin in front of him.

I crossed my arms in front of my own chest, defending myself as sarcasm found my voice. "Do you even know what Google is?" I asked stubbornly.

Dean sighed and narrowed his eyes. He immediately turned back towards the young woman and shook his head, trying to dismiss me out of embarrassment. "Alright, so you Googled. Then what?"

She tilted her head, "It said you owned an auto body shop in Kansas. So I hitch-hiked here."

"Hitch-hiked? From where?"

"Bangor, Maine." She turned to follow his line of sight into his office, searching out who he had been talking to. She found me and narrowed her eyes, staring me right in the face. "Who is that?" she asked, genuine curiosity hitting her voice.

"What?" Dean asked, running his hands through his hair. "No, don't worry about her. Concentrate on one thing at a time." He licked his lips and sidestepped so that he was in between the girl and I once more. "What is your name?"

"Sabina."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Sabina?"

"Sabina Wells," she answered, breathless. "Does this mean you're going to help me?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Serra

I glanced up at the clock for about the fifteenth time tonight; mere minutes had passed since the last time I checked. "Where the hell is Grace?" I asked aloud, bouncing my niece on my hip purely out of habit, considering my own daughter seemed to never stop crying when I held her.

Sam carried Charlie on his own hip, walking around the kitchen and gathering plates and cups from dinner. She was calm, I noticed, just as she had been all evening. Maybe there was something to what Grace said earlier: she was happiest when she was with her cousins. More and more I wondered if there was something special about my youngest.

He shrugged, seemingly uninterested at my question. "Have you tried calling her?" he asked, blowing his bangs out of his face. Turning from the sink, he stepped over Glory, who was sprawled out in our living room, playing with the coasters from the coffee table. Everett followed me around relentlessly, trying to get as close as he could to Faith as I bounced her, and Levi and Liberty were head to head at the top of the stairs, playing Battleship in the hall.

I narrowed my eyes, automatic irritation flooding my face again. "Have I tried calling her? Did you just ask me that?"

Sam shrugged. "What do you want me to say, Serra? I'm sorry it's almost six thirty and she's not home yet. They have that big audit coming up, so they're probably trying to get all the paperwork in order."

I sighed, putting Faith in the high chair and circling around to Charlie, who was still whimpering. "I know, but taking care of two tiny babies is hard. It feels like I'm still at the NICU."

Sammy rolled his eyes at me. "Your sister watches all the kids all the time. She deserves more time off. Besides, you barely notice her," Sammy said, gesturing to our niece. He tilted his head and smiled ironically, "And is it weird that she reminds me of Cas?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head, hearing my sister's confession about the angel rattle through my subconscious once again. "Yeah, I've heard. She stares. She's weird." Holding Faith against my hip, I leaned towards Charlie as she smiled at me and a glimmer of hope spiraled through my brain. "Hi, Chubs," I said, talking to her in my sweetest voice, trying to hold her attention. "You wanna eat some more?"

"She just ate, Serra. She's calm. Just leave her be," Sammy commented, taking a step forward. "Grace is right. When she's here, she's a completely different kid."

"I know," I sighed, putting Faith in the bouncer so I would stop tripping over Everett. I held my tongue about my thoughts on Charlotte being different and turned to stare at the mess in the living room. "I'm going to start the baths for the twins, and then we can get the bigs in the shower. Here," I said, handing Charlie a frozen washcloth. "Gnaw on that a bit and I'll be right back." In the middle of the kitchen, a phone began to ring. I glanced up at Sam and grinned. "Get that please," I continued, "maybe it's Grace."

He walked to the middle of the kitchen and picked up the phone, seeing Liberty's face across the screen, revealing that it was my sister. He nodded once at me and smiled. "Hey, Grace," Sam answered. "Someone was starting to get worried." Sam grinned at me when I shot him daggers, completely unabashed by my annoyance. He held out the phone and put it on speaker so I wouldn't have to stop doing what I was doing.

"Sorry, guys," she began, "it's been a hell of an afternoon. We're still missing March and April's invoice stacks and a girl showed up, looking for you and Dean."

Sam and I exchanged a glance, and I was immediately on edge. "What do you mean?" I asked.

Grace sighed from her end of the phone and I could almost see her shrug. "Well," she began, "from the sound of it, something has taken over her town near Bangor, Maine, and she decided to track the boys down, knowing that they're monster hunters."

"How does she know we're hunters?" I asked, tilting my head. Sam and I stared at each other, waiting for Grace to continue.

Grace ignored my question and added, "She says she wants to hire us."

I sighed, "We're not exactly 'The A-Team', Grace," I replied, trying my hardest not to sound irritated. "We're not for hire."

"Yeah, I know," she answered, matching my tone. "But from the sound of things, it's bad. Dean wants to do some digging, but we need to finish up here so we're ready for the bank on Monday."

"How much longer do you think you'll be gone?"

"I don't know, Luck," she said. "Probably a couple of hours more. Can the kids just spend the night? Or you can take them to the Big House and everyone can sleep there?"

I exchanged glances with Sam and he shrugged. "We are at the Big House and I'd rather keep them all here," I responded. "Everyone can be in their own beds except our two, and one of them doesn't sleep, so it's no big loss."

"Thank you guys," Grace sighed. "We owe you."

"It all balances out," Sam commented. "No big deal."

…

Somehow, we managed to feed and bathe all six kids. A little past eight, we collapsed on the couch in Grace and Dean's living room and stared at each other, completely wiped.

"How do people do this?" I sighed, leaning my head back on the cushion. "The parents with six or eight or ten kids? I mean, honestly. How do people survive?"

Sammy shrugged, wiping the wet hair out of his face. Levi and Everett had managed to almost empty the tub during their bath, getting more water on Sam and the floor than their own hair. "If you have eight or ten kids, then that means the oldest ones are at least nine or eleven. You start to assign kids to other kids." He laughed quietly. "You'd have to." He glanced at me and shook his head, still chuckling. "That sounds awful."

"Levi and Lib are too young…they would never be able to handle that kind of responsibility." I giggled to myself and shook my head. "And a set of twins thrown in…not fair."

Sammy laughed again, leaning his large frame into the back cushions of the couch. He was warm and I automatically gravitated towards him. "Really, two sets of twins. Glory and Everett, yeah, but Faith and Charlotte…they're the same exact age!" Sam chuckled. "I'm just glad Everett isn't melting down anymore. That was really hard on both Grace and Dean."

"Yeah, Cas' daughter does a good job keeping him balanced out, huh?" I shot him a wry grin.

Sam shook his head and sighed, resting his arm over the tops of my shoulders. "You guys need to let that go. Grace is touchy about it."

"Yeah, because Faith might as well be Cas'."

Sam could sense a shift in my tone, hearing something underlying in my voice that said I had more information than I let on. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked, eager for the gossip.

I shrugged. "Just know that Grace isn't as pure as she lets on. While Dean was doing the demon spell thing, along with his six extra tramps? Grace was getting down with Castiel's grace."

The look on Sam's face was comical. "What does that even mean?" he asked through my giggles.

I shook him off and turned to touch his ear. "Who the fuck cares?" I whispered, touching his hair, still clumped together with water. "We're in the Big House, Charlie isn't crying, and I hear that Grace just changed their sheets."

Sam's eyebrows lifted, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "You hinting at something?"

"Hell yes."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Serra

I was standing before I really knew what I was doing, pulling Sammy off the couch and running my hands through his hair as I tugged his sweater up and over his head. I made the move to drop it on the ground, but Sam sighed, automatically picking it back up, and taking it with us as we made out, shuffling along the hard wood towards Grace and Dean's bedroom.

I pulled my shirt off; my hair and necklaces got tangled together as I tried to be smooth and I fought with it momentarily, getting frustrated quickly. "Stop," Sam whispered, holding my shoulders steady. "Let me help you."

His warm hands pulled my hair gently from the collar of my shirt and separated my necklaces from my hair. Sam nestled his face in my neck, letting his lips and tongue map their way down my clavicle. I couldn't help moaning softly as his touch sent electricity down my spine and the curl of anticipation beginning in the depths of my belly.

As soon as we had cleared the threshold of their bedroom, I used my foot to close the door, not paying attention to if it clicked shut or not. I pushed Sam down onto Grace and Dean's bed and grinned wickedly at him, following him down onto the blankets and undoing his belt with fervor.

He stared at me; his hazel gaze was half hidden in lust already. Lifting his hips, he allowed me to pull his jeans off and I traced my fingers along his thighs and the musculature just beneath his skin. I climbed onto the bed, straddling him as I stepped out of my pants, leaving them on the floor next to his jeans. I leaned down to kiss him and put all of my weight into holding him down on the bed, not allowing his arms to wrap me in their warmth.

"Wait," Sam gasped as I bit down on his neck, under his mop of hair. "Wait, wait."

I sighed, annoyed, leaning away from his face and staring with my eyebrows up, waiting expectantly. "What?"

"Did you take your pill?"

I pressed my tongue up against the back of my teeth, catching the mockery in his voice. "I'm getting injections, now, asshat." Sam laughed, revealing that he knew about my new form of birth control. "You're such a shit," I said, collapsing towards his face once more, crushing my lips to his and holding him down again.

Slowly, Sam regained control of the situation, unclasping my bra with one hand and rolling me, not giving me the chance to fight back as I landed on the mattress next to him. He attacked my body, groping and feeling every inch of me and as his trail of kisses led further down, I was gasping for air, trying to keep my sounds to a minimum, knowing we had a house full of kids that, apparently, we were in charge of.

"Oh my God, Sam," I whined.

Sam chuckled, tormenting me further and I grasped at his hair, trying to pull him towards my face. He managed to pin both of my hands to the bed and led his tongue back up my abdomen, kissing my neck and picking me bodily from the bed. We were facing each other now and as Sam pulled my hips roughly towards his, we finally made contact as he pushed into me.

I gasped again, adjusting to Sam as he pulled me closer, throwing my leg over his and wrapping myself around him. We found a rhythm quickly and it didn't take long for both of us to break out into a sweat, clawing at each other's backs and kissing deeply. He pulled my hair and I had no choice but to lean my head all the way back, exposing my neck and Sam buried his face there, the scruff of his beard driving me wild.

More moans escaped my throat, almost pleading with him, pushing him on and his drive increased, shattering what was left of my calm, and pushing me over the edge. My nails dug into his shoulders and I bit down on his neck, trying to keep my voice down.

Sam's hands gripped my back roughly, throwing me down onto the bed and changing position again. When I wrapped my leg around his hip, locking him into place, his entire body went rigid and forced us both into dazzling white euphoria, so much in fact, that I didn't hear the front door of the Big House open, nor did I hear Dean's voice call our names.

"What the hell is that?" Dean said, turning towards Grace as he lifted his eyebrows at his wife. "You hear that?"

"Oh, Dean," Grace murmured, holding out her hand and closing her eyes, making a face. "Wait. Don't—"

"Son of a bitch," Dean's voice echoed through the house as he pushed the bedroom door open and made eye contact with me as Sam had me pinned on the bed. "You two couldn't wait to do it in your own friggin' bedroom?"

Grace followed closely behind, her eyes shut and her hand out, blocking both of us from view. "Seriously, you guys. I just changed the sheets." She pressed her lips together, looking overly maternal, shaking her head in disappointment.

"Well, don't just stand there, watching, you perves!" I shouted, pointing to the door. "Get out!"

Dean held out his hands and gaped, "It's our bedroom!"

"Get out!" I threw a pillow towards my brother-in-law for good measure as Sam collapsed on the bed next to me. "Holy shit," I gasped, still recovering from our session. "I am so glad they weren't about four minutes earlier." He glanced at me and laughed as I continued. "They would have really thrown me off."

Sam had his hands over his face and he was giggling, but blushing beet red. "Oh my God," he breathed. "My brother just walked in on my bare ass in the air."

We both dissolved into peals of laughter, gasping for air as Dean ranted from the kitchen.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Grace

"And on my side of the bed? Really?" Dean was in the middle of a marginally angry tirade, pacing around the kitchen animatedly waving his arms around, and it had only managed to make me laugh. "Six kids they've got under this roof and their biggest priority is fucking on my side of the bed!"

"We _just_ had sex in your office," I countered, folding my legs under me as I sat on the countertop. I lifted my eyebrows at his reaction, giggling to myself.

Dean wracked his brain, narrowing his eyes at me as he tried to think of something to argue with and his mouth hung open as his eyebrows rose, staring at the ceiling. "We didn't have six kids to worry about."

"They're asleep."

"Why aren't you more upset about the fact that _your_ sister and _my_ brother had sex in _our_ bed? On our new friggin' sheets?"

"Because I've caught her in worse places and sheets can be changed. You should be grateful they're so happy to be together." I stared at him happily, holding my cup of coffee in both hands, still giggling. I glanced at the barn from the window and shrugged. "Stop being such a baby."

"I'll remember that when you have to pull those sheets and find a wet spot." Dean tilted his head victoriously as I made a face, disgusted.

"That was unnecessary."

He reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer, opening it with the bottle opened that hung from the wall. He turned, leaning on the counter, and shrugged. "It had to be done. Glad you're joining me on this side of grossed out. I regret nothing." Nodding towards the barn, Dean took a drink and his eyebrows arched expressively, changing subjects. "She okay out there?"

I telepathically listened momentarily for the hitchhiking urchin we brought home. I was still surprised that Dean had agreed, but after explaining what had happened in her town, he and I had exchanged a glance that reminded me why I had fallen in love with him in the first place. Dean was a caring man, regardless of how terrifying he had the ability to be. He sought ways to take care of people who needed him and went out of his way to make sure others were comfortable before he worried about himself.

Nodding, I took a sip of my coffee. "Yeah, she's cold, but she's fine. For now."

Dean nodded and turned as our bedroom door opened. Our siblings were both fully dressed, but Sam walked with his head down, embarrassment flooding his cheeks with a rosy glow. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed as Serra strutted across our living room floor. Apparently, my sister knew no shame.

"Leave the door open, Sam," Dean's deep voice lectured. "I don't want our room smellin' like your funk."

Sam made a face and creased his eyebrows together, finally looking up. "Gross, Dean," he commented quietly.

"Gross? Gross is makin' my new sheets all smellin' like you," Dean replied, gesturing with his beer. "You know how much I was looking forward to crashing on those crisp, clean sheets tonight?"

"We'll change the sheets, Dean," Serra added, shaking her head.

"And you'll wash those ones," I added.

Serra rolled her eyes at me and sauntered into the kitchen, opening the door to the fridge and pulling out her own beer. She turned to offer one to Sam, but he shook his head. As she tossed the bottle cap in the recycle bin, she leaned against the counter near me and took a drink. "You guys all ready for Monday?"

"No," I answered. "We're still missing March and April."

Dean continued, throwing his bottle in the recycle bin and crossing his arms. "We got interrupted by a girl from Maine."

"Yeah that's what Grace was saying," Serra said, lifting herself up onto the counter across from me. "My brain is all kinds of red-flagged. Did you get anything else out of her? Where is she now?"

Gesturing over his shoulder, Dean pointed to the barn outside. "She came home with us. She's out in the barn."

"You brought her _home?"_ Serra exploded, jumping back down from the counter and moving into the dining room and spinning the dial of the floor safe. "Why would you do that, Grace? Where our kids are? Come on, use your brain!"

I was already shaking my head as Serra tore open the safe and brought out the matching pearl handled Colt forty-fives that Dean and I shared. She glanced back at me and shook her head, looking disgruntled; obviously disappointed with my decision.

Serra tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows, "Disappointed?" she asked, apparently tapping into my thoughts without hesitation. "I think you're gonna have to find a little stronger of an adjective."

Sighing, I searched for the words to calm my sister, "She's not dangerous, Sere. She's young. She's…lost."

"I don't care if she's in elementary school and her hair is in pigtails, Grace! What were you thinking, after all the shit that has gone down in the last calendar year?" Serendipity wheeled on Dean, gesturing with the loaded guns as she paced back towards the kitchen window. "And what were you thinking? Jesus H. Christ, Winchester! You would think you'd know better than to bring a stranger back to our _property!"_

Dean licked his lips and his green gaze flicked to mine thinking, " _She is a time bomb with those guns."_

"Serra, stop," I said, jumping down off the counter and holding out my hands, palm out, trying to keep my sister from going after Sabina. "She's clean. Dean ran her name in the databases that we still have from Jody and Donna. She's an eighteen-year-old high school graduate from Holden, Maine, right outside of Bangor. She's got a small family, no driver's license, and nowhere else to go."

"That doesn't change the fact that she showed up at the shop, knowing who you were, Dean," Serra continued relentlessly. "She's obviously resourceful enough to find us."

"Because Grace put the shop on Google," Dean muttered under his breath.

"It was already on Google, it's a business!" I repeated for what seemed like the tenth time that evening. "The shop wasn't hard to find. We're a legit business. _You're_ legit, now, Dean. I hate to break it to you. You're on the grid!"

"I wasn't until you Googled!"

"You're on a _legal marriage certificate_ and _four_ birth certificates! I think you've been on the grid for awhile, now." I sighed heavily, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Look. Everyone, just calm down." I turned to stare at my sister, who was still heavily armed, staring out the window towards the barn like a guard dog. "Serra, for the love of all that's holy, stop waving the guns around, and put them back. Dean, brief these two on what we know while I go check on Glory. She's awake. I don't want her waking up the rest of them."

I started up the steps and I could hear Serra unwillingly click the safety on both of the forty-fives as she dropped one of them gently back into the safe at her feet. Dean took a deep breath and began explaining what we knew about Sabina Wells as I climbed the steps to calm my daughter.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Dean

I walked over to where I had dumped my stuff when we walked into the house and dug through the pile to find the records I had printed out on Sabina from the shop. Handing them off to Sam, I leaned back on the counter where I had been and crossed my arms after opening my second beer of the night.

Sammy was a fast reader, so in no time, he was handing the first page to Serra and nodding slightly at the bottom of the second page. "Two pages? That's it?"

"I'm telling you," I began, "the girl is boring. That's the only reason I felt comfortable about bringing her home. She looked so grateful at the idea of sitting down to drink a bottle of water, I knew she wasn't dangerous."

"Dean, these pages don't even support the idea that's she's eighteen. There's only three years of information here." Serra looked up at me with her hazel eyes wide. "Why isn't there more information?"

"Because she's a good girl," I answered, leaning forward for effect. "Nothing like you."

"What if she's just an Oscar-worthy actress?" Serra asked, ignoring my jab, still glancing out the window towards the barn every few seconds. "Don't you think Grace and I would have been good at doing the same thing at her age?" Serra sighed haughtily and glanced back at the window. "Dude, I've been on edge since the whole you-being-a-demon thing. It's like I have been _waiting_ for something like this to happen. You can't tell me that this is coincidence."

I shook my head, maintaining my calm exterior. "Grace says that as far as she knows, Sabina thinks what she is telling us is the truth." Shrugging lightly, I tilted my head. "I tend to believe my wife, the psychic."

"Sabina?" Serra repeated her name with distain. "You're on a first name basis with her?"

I sighed and took another swig of beer. "We had a conversation, Sere. We can trust what she's saying."

Sammy glanced at her and back at me, shrugging. "So what did she tell you? Why did she seek us out?"

"Said her family started acting weird about a month back, one at a time. She would go to work, come home, and someone else would be different." I sighed and stared at the mud splattered across the toe of my boot. "She would try and talk them out of it, but it's like they were just shells of the people they used to be. They would do what they normally did, but they wouldn't respond to conversations or interact with her the way she was used to." I took another drink. "She says it's basically happened to the entire town. She and a few others are the only ones left."

Serra was ready with her own battery of questions. "Why didn't whatever it is affect her the same way? How did she know to come looking for you guys?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. That's what we need to find out."

"So you're letting her hire us?" Serra clicked her tongue. "We're not a team of mercenaries here. We're actually gainfully employed."

"You went hunting with me last week," I spat, rolling my eyes. "You're always looking for another job."

Sammy made a face and shook his head slowly. "I don't like the idea of being hired, Dean. We've never been paid to do a job before."

"I know and we're not starting now," I answered. "We didn't promise Sabina anything yet, but if we help her, we do it for free, just like always." I took a deep breath and continued, "Grace told her we'd bring her home, clean her up, talk to you guys, and figure out what to do next." I drained the last of my beer and tossed it into the can at the end of the counter. "Either way, it's still winter and the right thing to do is make sure she's warm and safe."

I knew I had Sammy convinced when he nodded slowly at me, lifting his eyebrows. He glanced down at his wife who glared back up at him. Serra had her reasons for being so guarded; she had always been the protector when she and Grace had been alone, and it was in her nature. The last few months, Serra had been grouchier than usual, usually taking her irritation out on Sam and Grace, and I knew it had a lot to do with the recent events with Ouriel. She was locked in a holding pattern of constantly being on watch, and the bottom line was that she was right; a lot of awful things had happened lately, but I couldn't help but trust that Sabina Wells was nothing to be afraid of. Whatever was taking out her town one person at a time was the thing we should be worried about.

A few seconds later, I heard the top step creak as Grace came back downstairs, carrying a very sleepy Glory. I turned towards them and Grace smiled lightly, putting my mind at ease. "Hey, Cheese Puff," I whispered gently as Glory reached for me. "Why are you up?"

Glory had no interest in answering and instead buried her face against my chest. She was almost instantly asleep again, breathing deeply as I held her. I glanced at Grace and she smiled again. "She just wanted to see you," she whispered.

My heart swelled and I wrapped my other arm around my daughter. Nodding towards the back of the house, I shrugged. "Well," I said quietly. "It's getting cold in the barn. Maybe it's time to bring in the new recruit."

…

Serra was in the lead as we walked out to the barn, walking with purpose towards the old building. Johnny ran to greet her, his big tail wagging obnoxiously as he ran. She lifted her arms to keep them out of Johnny's reach as he bounded by, and I caught the shine of steel tucked into the back waistband of her jeans. She still had one of our forty-fives. Nudging Grace, I pointed. "She's still armed," I whispered.

"Of course she is," Grace whispered back. She had put Glory back to bed before following us out, knowing it was too cold for her to be out here. "Maybe she won't pull it."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Snowball's chance."

Sammy and Serra dragged the barn doors open enough for us to fit through and I immediately tripped on a pile of Tonka trucks and Hot Wheels as I tried to make an entrance. "Shit," I muttered, regaining my balance. During the spring and summer months, the kids played out here all the time and it was a great place for them to be, considering otherwise, I would be tripping on toys inside the house as well. I glanced up at the table and chairs that were in the middle of the floor and saw Sabina sitting uncomfortably in the farthest chair. "How you doing? You okay?" I asked, eyeing Serra nervously as she stood in the corner with her arms crossed.

She nodded slowly, eyeing the new-comers. "Yeah," she ventured. "It's not that cold out here. Your barn is nice."

Grace smiled. I knew she held a certain amount of pride for the old building. She had done a lot of work out here with Serra, retrofitting it to make the beams safe for the kids to climb on without getting splinters in their feet and making sure there was enough hay so if any of the kids fell, they would at least land in a pile of softer-than-bedrock alfalfa. So far, so good: the only injuries any of the kids ever had were scraped knees and dirt in their eyes.

Sabina stood cautiously, waiting for introductions. I pointed at Sammy and smiled, saying, "This is my brother Sam and his wife, Serra." Sammy held out his hand and shook hers, making her look about four feet tall, but Serra remained motionless, only narrowing her eyes when Sabina glanced towards her.

"You're bigger than I thought you would be," Sabina answered, sounding slightly star-struck. "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Sabina. Sabina Wells. Thank you for letting me hang out in your barn." She continued to stare, her mouth slightly open.

Sammy nodded slowly, holding back a laugh and pursing his lips. "Dean told us a bit about what is happening. You wanna come in and get cleaned up? You hungry?"

Her mouth fell open slightly, nodding with wide eyes. "That would be really great," Sabina said quietly. "Dean and Grace gave me some beef jerky earlier, but it's been awhile since I had a real food."

Grace took the lead heading back into the house and glanced back at me occasionally, her eyes reassuring. "She's still just as innocent as before." She turned to look at her sister, bringing up the rear and chuckled softly.

"I know," I whispered back. "I don't think that girl's hiding anything."

Turning back to look at me, she chuckled. "Oh, she's got some things she hasn't said yet," she replied.

"What?" I asked, caution flagging in my brain.

"Let's just say that she's a fan," Grace said, holding the mystery. "This is going to be fun."


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks for hanging with me while figured out their email alert issues! I am pretty sure that the problem has been resolved and I hope that everyone that wants them is getting their email alerts! Thank you so much for your reviews and private messages! I hope you continue to enjoy 'Holden'. We're about to get into some adventure. Thank you so much and let me know what you think!

hugs and internetty love,

the girl with the dinosaur tattoo**

...

Chapter 14

Grace

Walking back towards our giant dining room table, I set the tray of lunchmeat, vegetables, dip, cheese, and crackers in front of Sabina and sat down in the chair next to Dean, handing him another beer. I turned back towards the counter and grabbed the bottle of wine I had been working on for about three days and poured myself a glass as Serra walked Sabina through the tirade of questions that I could only expect from my over-protective little sister.

"When did you graduate?" Serra was asking, chewing on a banana chip with her legs up on Sam's lap.

"Last June," Sabina answered, carefully plucking a piece of ham from the tray and rolling it around a piece of cheese. She took a bite and closed her eyes, enjoying herself immensely. "I have been working at the restaurant down the street from my house for a few months now."

"What's your mother's name?"

"Janice."

"Do you have any siblings?" Serra munched on another banana chip as she stared at the teenager, her hazel eyes narrowing as she crunched.

"I have a brother," Sabina answered, trying to keep up with my little sister.

"What year were you born?"

"Serra, stop," I finally said, hearing enough. "We know she's not lying. She's not possessed. As far as she knows, she's telling the truth." I took a drink from my wine glass and sighed. "Let's move on to maybe figuring out what is wrong with her hometown?"

Sabina nodded and smiled at me, grateful that I was giving her a chance to speak. "It started out slowly," she said, taking a cracker from the tray. "Friends' families were starting to go weird. They would go to work and come home completely vacant…their eyes would be blank and they would go through the motions of being alive, but…" She shrugged. "It's like they were just playing the part of who they used to be."

Serra leaned forward on the table on her elbows, still trying to find a chink in Sabina's armor. "And what made you think that it was anything supernatural? What made you think to come look for them?" she asked, nodding towards Dean and Sam.

"At first, I didn't think they were real. I assumed that Carver Edlund had made them up," Sabina explained.

I grinned behind my wineglass as Dean and Sam both choked on their beer. Serra was wide-eyed, lowering her head and raising her eyebrows doubtingly. "Carver…?"

"Edlund," Sabina agreed. "He's an author that wrote a whole series of books called 'Supernatural' and I got really into them in high school, and just assumed that he had made up the entire thing…that they were just a story." She held her hand out, gesturing to the boys.

The look on Serra's face was absolutely priceless and I wished, at that moment, that my phone wasn't across the room. I would have taken a picture of her.

"Wait, how did you figure out the books are real?" Dean asked, smiling roguishly and tilting his head.

Sabina furrowed her eyebrows and turned towards him. "Wait," she said, "they're all real?" She glanced at Sam, who raised his eyebrows expectantly. "I figured they were exaggerations! When all of this started going down, I was frustrated one night on my computer and thought 'Man, the Winchesters would know what to do' and jokingly, I typed your name into the search bar." She took another bite of a piece of celery and grinned. "Turns out there were a couple of Dean Winchesters, but there was one Dean Winchester that owned an auto body shop in Lawrence, Kansas and after I called the shop, asking if he had a brother named Sam, I started working my way here."

"You hitchhiked your way across America on a _possibility_ of us being real?" Sam asked, leaning forward, enamored in the story. He smiled gently, encouraging her to go on.

"Come on, Sam and Dean Winchester? The names were too obvious to be a coincidence. I had nothing to lose…everyone in my family seems like they're already gone." Sabina shrugged. "If you turned out to just be mechanics, at least I would be away from them so it didn't happen to me."

I laughed again, delighted in the look on Dean's face and I leaned back in my chair. "Aren't you full frontal in those books, honey?" I asked sweetly, turning towards Dean. It wasn't often that I could make my husband blush, but the heat that found his cheeks wasn't from the alcohol. Sabina's face flushed as well and she stared at the vegetables on the tray in front of her. I took another drink of wine and leaned back towards Sabina, still giggling. "I am so glad you met me after all of that was over."

Dean glared at me and shook his head. "What, you don't want to be publicly exposed in literature too?"

"I would hardly call them literature," Sam commented, shaking his head. He looked over at his wife and shrugged sheepishly.

"The Gospels according to Winchester," I sighed, tilting my head and winking at Dean.

Sabina leaned forward and smiled, "The more research I did; the more I realized that you were the real deal. When I saw you in the paper last week, about the hotel with the restless spirit-"

"The paper?" Serra interrupted. "We were in the paper?"

Dean shrugged. "We're getting sloppy," he said. "I think it was when we were clearing out…there were camera crews out because of 'apparent suicide' out the broken window." He used his fingers as air quotes and shook his head, remembering the hunt.

"You mean when you got your ass tossed by a ghost?" I commented.

"You did get your ass tossed," Serra laughed. "Old man."

Dean ignored her and took a carrot from the tray. He bit down and made a face, shaking his head and handing it to me. "Why did you take it, then?" I asked, taking the carrot from my husband and eating it.

"Eventually, maybe I'll be a good role model for our kids," Dean sighed, taking a piece of ham and rolling it around a piece of cheese. "For now, you can do that enough for the both of us."

Sabina watched us with wide-eyed wonderment. "I can't believe that Dean Winchester is married and has kids," she said in awe. "I would have never guessed that he would settle down."

"You can stop talking about me like I'm not sitting in front of you," Dean replied through his mouth full of food. "And stop using my whole name. It's weird."

She nodded silently, still chewing.

"Alright," Sam said, breaking the chain of disbelief from my family at the table. "We know two things: she's telling the truth and something is happening to the locals in her town. I guess the next step is to figure out what is going on."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Grace

Dean and Sam had gone over to the Small House to start the research they needed to do for our potential trip to Holden and Serra was feeding Charlotte in our bedroom, trying to get her to sleep. I started cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes and as I did so, Sabina quietly followed me across the linoleum and picking up the wet tray, began to dry it with the towel from the hook. As she approached, Johnny eyed her nervously and got up from his place on the rug, pacing around to stand in front of me. I glanced down at the lab and shook my head, thinking that he was picking up on Serra's nervousness about the girl.

"You don't have to do that," I said quietly, flicking my gaze back to Sabina. "You've been through enough. It's okay to sleep."

The teenager shook her head slowly; her stick-straight, chestnut hair falling into her eyes. "I remember my mom and I doing dishes together every night when I was younger. We would sing along with the radio and clean up while my brother and my dad worked on homework."

I smiled sadly at her, automatically feeling the tug of Sabina's heavy emotions as they wrapped around my own. "It sounds like you guys were really happy," I commented, handing her another plate.

"We were."

The only sound in the kitchen for a few minutes was my niece's insistent crying coming from our bedroom and the water from the sink. Sabina sniffed once and I handed her the bowl I had been washing. She touched my hand and when I looked up, she was smiling softly with tears sparkling in her eyes.

Taking a small, shaky breath, Sabina whispered, "Thank you for helping me. You didn't have to."

"This is kind of our thing," I replied. "We were all hunters long before we met. Carver Edlund only wrote about the boys. We didn't all get our own 'Supernatural' series."  
Sabina smiled and went back to drying, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I still can't believe they're real, you know?" She grinned. "It's like meeting a movie star."

I raised my eyebrows, laughing quietly. "Don't ever say that to Dean," I pleaded. "I'll never hear the end of it."

She giggled and put the bowl to the side as I washed baby bottles. One by one, I put them in the drying rack as Sabina watched. "How many kids do you and Dean have?"

I sighed, smiling. "Four."

"Dean Winchester has four kids?" Sabina's voice elevated and she took a step back, obviously surprised. "Four?"

"Liberty, Glory, Everett, and Faith," I replied, shrugging. "We would have stopped at three since the twins were a package deal, but Faith was insistent."

Sabina giggled and shook her head. "Four kids. Wow." I listened to her train of thought as she wiped out the bottles and lined them up on the counter. Sabina was trying to figure out how to ask about how Dean and I met, but she couldn't figure out a way to ask without sounding like an obsessed fan. She was worried she was about to cross some sort of line, considering we had just met, but her curiosity got the better of her.

I smiled to myself as she took a slow breath, throwing caution to the wind. "How long have you been married?" she asked quietly.

"Six years," I replied, shaking my head. I could hardly believe the number myself.

"Do hunters usually marry other hunters? Is that a thing?"

Shrugging, I pulled the plug in the sink and washed off the rest of the baby bottle parts. "I have no idea. We just kind of…found each other, and then my sister got obsessed with his brother and it all just kinda…worked out."

"It's so romantic," Sabina sighed as she dried off the rest of the bottles. "I just broke up with my high school boyfriend. He was on the football team…" She faded off and I knew she was having a hard time finding the words. "Parker was one of those guys that…I don't know how to describe it. He…"

"Would always be on the football team?"

Sabina glanced up at me and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, it was like he was never going to grow up. I wanted out of that town so badly, but I wasn't good enough in school to get into the colleges that I wanted to." She shrugged. "It's not like I had the money to pay for college either."

Her sadness returned and it hit me like a tidal wave, bringing tears to my eyes and I looked away, hoping to regain control before Sabina noticed. I could hear Charlotte's crying get louder as my sister carried her across the living room and walked right up to me.

"What's the matter with you?" Serra asked, noticing the wetness in my eyes, and glancing at me and then back at Sabina, her voice guarded once more.

I stared at her and wiped my face with the dishtowel I held. "Nothing. What's the matter with you?"

Serendipity's face softened and she leaned her head back, whining, "Make her stop, Grace. She's working on hour eighteen, here. Didn't sleep the whole time you guys were gone." Serra pulled Charlie away from her body and held her out to me. "She's gotta stop."

I took my niece and bounced her against my hip as Sabina watched. "Did she eat?" I asked as I touched her face. She was warm, but I was sure it was because she had been crying for the last hour or so.

Serra nodded sadly, her eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. "Yeah, but she won't stop. Help me, Gracie. Please?"

I stared at Charlotte and sighed, glancing at Sabina. "Hey, Charlie," I began, twirling her around. "Charlie, _shhh_ , baby. Calm down." Charlotte stopped long enough to take another deep, wheezing breath. Her thick auburn hair was so much like Faith's it was hard to notice that I carried my niece, not my daughter. "Charlotte, come on, honey." I walked her around the room as Serra and Sabina looked on. The only thing I could think of besides sedating her was to put her in the crib with one of my own kids, but I knew that Serra was looking to have me take the easy way out, and put Charlotte to sleep myself. Still on the edge of caution, I was unwilling to use any of my abilities in front of Sabina just yet. I had no idea how she would react.

Serra shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Come on, Gracie," she whined. "You know I've tried everything. If she was one of the babies in the NICU, I would have sedated her by now, just so she can get some sleep. She's exhausted."

I sighed and closed my eyes, mentally preparing to handle Sabina's reaction. "Alright, alright," I muttered, switching Charlie to my other hip so that I could hold my right hand to her sweaty little forehead. "Okay, Charlotte," I whispered. "It's time for you to sleep. Take a break, huh?"

There was a soft flash of blue light and Charlie stopped screaming immediately. The tears that flowed down her cheeks slowed and her blue eyes drooped as she became more and more drowsy. After a few seconds, Charlie leaned her head into my shoulder and rubbed her face against my shirt, wiping tears and snot across it. I looked up at my sister, seeing that her eyes were closed and she was finally starting to relax. Rolling Charlie into her outstretched arms, she padded across the room to put her on my side of the bed. I turned back towards Sabina and waited as her thoughts processed what she just witnessed.

Sabina's eyebrows knitted together and she tilted her head, confused. "Did you just make that baby go to sleep?"

I pursed my lips, nodding slightly.

"By touching her?"

I narrowed my eyes, nodding again.

"You're not…" Sabina faded away and glanced around as Serra joined us in the kitchen, crossing her arms across her chest and staring.

"Human?" Serra provided, hiding a smile. "No. She's not human. Not completely anyway."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Serra

This was always the exciting part: telling other people that Grace is half-angel is something I could probably sell tickets to. The looks on other people's faces as they try to wrap their heads around something that big are always hysterical. Sabina Wells didn't disappoint, and I watched her carefully, making sure the information she was hearing was brand new. It further proved that I might be overreacting and Grace might be right about the girl. I still had my doubts.

"I'm something called a nephilim," Grace was saying as I stood behind her, eyeing the teenager carefully. "I'm half angel, half human."

"Half…angel," Sabina repeated, backing away from Grace.

Grace nodded, trying to move slowly so she didn't scare Sabina into taking off into the field between our houses. I glanced outside and saw the boys walking through the wheat, their heads just visible in the moonlight. "It's a newer development," Grace began, shrugging slowly. "I used to just be psychic by touch…I never knew what I was before. The more that happened to us, the more my abilities were pushed, and the more I could do." Grace glanced at me, making a face and trying to say it as gently as possible. "After our little stint in Hell, we found out that I can do quite a bit."

"Hell? Half…angel?" Sabina tried to grasp the entirety of what Grace was saying and I chuckled from my place at the end of the kitchen, sipping from the coffee mug Grace had given me. Sabina continued pathetically, "And you're married to Dean Winchester."

"I said to stop using my whole name," Dean commented as he let himself in through the back door. He stopped short, staring at the three of us in the kitchen and glanced at Grace. "What'd we miss?"

Nodding forward, gesturing towards Grace and Sabina, I answered, "She just found out about Grace and she's not taking it well." I changed subjects, tilting my head. "What did you find out about Holden?"

"No," Sabina said quietly. "Go back. Go back to the fact that you said you're half-angel."

Grace sighed, shaking her head. "This is why I didn't want to sedate her out here," she muttered. She turned back to Sabina and held out her hands, speaking quietly. Sam and Dean watched from their positions near the back door. "I'm not dangerous and I'm not a monster. I'm a wife," she paused and smiled lightly at Dean. "And I'm a mother of four rather talented kids."

Sabina's mouth dropped open and she stared at my sister, "The kids have abilities too?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah," Dean agreed quietly, his deep voice dropped to a frightening level. "And if you have a problem with any of this, you can just get back on the road. We don't need any more drama."

Sabina turned towards Dean and shook her head quickly. "No, no," she replied, holding up her hands. "I'm just…it's a lot to take in. I didn't even think you were real and then I find you and you're married to a woman that's half-angel…it's all such a stretch. I don't know how to process any of this."

Dean stepped closer to Grace and leaned on the counter next to her. Grace took a deep breath and sighed, glancing at her husband and turning back towards the teenager that stood in their kitchen. "Sabina," she started quietly. "We want to help you, but you're going to have to understand that we're…different. All of us." She took a breath and nodded at Dean, obviously answering a question that he thought rather than spoke aloud. "And if we're going to help you, you're going to have to keep all this to yourself. We don't want any extra attention. We've made a life for ourselves out here and we just can't risk it."

Sabina nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. I set my coffee down on the counter and crossed my arms in front of me. I decided it was time for the Warrior of Fucking Heaven to lay down the law. Very quietly, I spoke, "I have two very large, very beautiful guns that I would not hesitate in using if you decide to make a bad choice," I added, my voice sweet, but dangerous. "My kids are here, too. I will end you and no one will ever know."

Sabina's brown eyes went wide and she nodded slowly.

"I'm glad we have an understanding." I turned back towards my husband, winking at him flirtatiously. I said what I needed to say; now my conscious could be clear.

Sam shook his head slowly from behind Sabina, sighing heavily at me. Dean was smiling and Grace was shaking her head disapprovingly in my direction. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged defensively. "What?" I asked, my voice high pitched. "It had to be said. Now she can't say we didn't warn her."

…

Serra

Hours later, we were still awake and staring at the map of the tiny town in Maine where Sabina lived. Sam was explaining that in Holden, there were only about three thousand people, and since Sabina had abandoned her home, there had not been one crime reported in the area. The police scanners had offered nothing and the news was normal. Boring, if anything.

"Still," Dean was saying, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his face with both hands. "There should have been something. Cow tipping. Stealing tractors. Joyriding. Whatever you do in a small, freezing town."

Sammy shrugged, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. "It supports Sabina's story; people have changed," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and tilting his head. "Almost like someone or something is controlling them."

"Spell?" I asked, munching on a bag of Cheerios that I had discovered in the pantry. "Is that something a witch could do with enough hex bags?"

"I don't know," Sam replied. "It seems like a lot of people for a witch to control."

Grace shook her head from her place next to Dean. She looked exhausted as she closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side. "A coven, maybe. I guess it's possible," she said, opening her eyes and staring at Sabina. "I don't know if hex bags would have enough power to control three thousand people, though." She raised her eyebrows. "You said there were others that hadn't been changed yet. Who else besides you?"

Sabina took a deep breath and thought momentarily, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. "Um," she began, "there were some people from my high school; a couple of girls in my graduating class that came by the restaurant a few days before I left. They were normal. Worried." Grace nodded as she listened. "And there was an older couple of women that I have seen walking around my neighborhood. They're always dressed up."

"Dressed up?" Grace asked, sighing. "Why dressed up?"

Sabina shook her head and shrugged.

I watched as Dean glanced at the clock that hung on the wall behind the stove. "I have to be at the shop in five hours," he said, standing. "You guys feel free to keep bouncing ideas, but I'm done."

Grace's blue eyes flicked towards Dean and she shook her head. "Me too," she answered, standing as well. "We're not going to figure anything else out if we're too exhausted to function." She turned towards Sabina and gestured to the couch. "You can stay in here if you want. Sleep on the couch?"

Sabina shook her head, her brown hair falling from her ponytail. "No," she replied quietly. "That's okay. I like the barn."

Grace nodded tiredly and took the tray to the counter, dumping the leftover crackers into the bag. Dean shuffled out of the living room, leaving a pile of plates he gathered from the table on the counter as he headed towards the bathroom. I helped Sam and Grace clear the rest of the table and a few minutes later, Dean came back out of the bathroom and gestured towards the bedroom. I turned to stare at him as I set the glasses I carried on the counter.

I couldn't help but smile, staring at his undone belt hanging from the loops on his jeans. He was barefoot and wearing only a black Winchester Auto Body tee shirt that clung to his body in all the right ways. Sam was in my frame of sight as well and I took a minute to compare the brothers, seeing the rope of muscle that wound its way up both Dean and Sammy's arms in much the same pattern. " _The Winchester men are some of the prettiest things…"_ I thought as I caught Grace's gaze. She heard my thoughts and she giggled, agreeing.

"Why is there a baby that's not mine on the bed?" Dean asked, recapturing my attention as he pointed towards the bedroom. He lifted his eyebrows, obviously not hearing the exchange between my sister and me.

"Oh," I said, still chuckling. "Grace put Charlie down earlier. I'll get her right before we leave."

"Where's Levi?" Dean asked, glancing up stairs. "He upstairs with Lib?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I answered. "They're besties."

Rolling his eyes, Dean sighed. "Just sounds like I have six kids."

"They're not staying," I argued. "Calm down." Turning away from us, Dean held his middle finger up over his shoulder at me as he walked away. I laughed and Grace chuckled, wiping her hands on the towel.

"Come get your kid," he growled as he walked back into the bedroom. "I wanna go to bed."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Grace

"Lib, come get this please," I said, holding out her sweater. "And take this to Daddy." I gave her the bottle I made for Faith and turned back towards Glory and Everett, giving them each a plate of toast and orange slices.

It was early. By the time Serra and Sam had taken Charlie home, Sabina had gone out to the barn, I had showered, and finally lay down to sleep; it was almost three-thirty in the morning. Now, three hours later, I was attempting to mother three of our four kids simultaneously as Dean got ready to open the shop while holding Faith.

Dean came down stairs with Faith and rubbed his face with his free hand. Libby ran up to him, handing him the bottle that I made and he took it, smiling weakly. "Thanks, Meatloaf," he murmured. He turned to me and raised his eyebrows, showing how bloodshot his green eyes were. "This is hard."

I couldn't help laughing. "Well, Winchester, we've got four friggin' kids. What did you think?"

He chuckled and sat down on the couch, shaking the bottle for Faith. "I think hunting is easier," he smiled at me and glanced down at our youngest daughter. "Did you hear that, Pot Roast? A coven of vamps is easier than you." Faith furrowed her tiny eyebrows and glared at her father, her blue eyes dark. "Yeah, you're right," he continued. "Maybe they're not easier than _you._ " She seemed to relax as she settled into his arms and began to eat. Dean yawned widely and looked up at me as I poured two cups of coffee. "You get any sleep?"

"A few hours," I replied. "Ev woke Faith up around six."

From his place at the table, Everett smiled, his mouth full of orange slice, covering his teeth comically. We both turned to stare at our son and Dean shook his head, holding back a grin. "Dude, you've gotta let her sleep. She gets crabby when you wake her up too early, which makes Momma crabby." Everett continued to grin at Dean as the girls and I all turned towards the back door, waiting for it to open. Dean didn't even look up. "Hey, Luck," he greeted. "Your son is the only one still sleeping."

Serra looked exhausted, as per usual in the morning. She had never been a morning person and staying up into the early morning was not something we could easily do anymore. The hood of her sweatshirt was up, over her head, and she dragged her feet as she walked across the kitchen. She waved vaguely over her shoulder as she trudged up the steps in order to collect Levi. Seconds later, there was a knock on the back door and I answered, "Hi, Sabina. Come on in."

The door opened slowly and Sabina Wells walked cautiously into our kitchen. The kids turned to stare at the mousy teenager and immediately, Everett shrank behind me, hiding from the stranger. "Good morning," she began cautiously.

"Morning," I answered, turning back towards Glory as she reached for the butter dish with a grin on her face. "No, you have butter. You're fine."

"That's a lot of kids," Sabina commented. "Dean Winchester has four kids."

"Dude."

Sabina jumped as she realized Dean was sitting behind her. "Dean. Sorry," she corrected. "But still. Four kids. I can't believe it."

Dean sighed, "Believe it, sister."

"You want a cup of coffee?" I asked, shifting towards the coffee maker, Everett moving across the kitchen with me. I glanced down and shook my head, trying to ignore my son. "It's fresh."

Sabina shook her head, still eyeing Dean with Faith. "No, thank you," she replied. "I've never been a fan. I prefer tea, if you have it."

"I'll put a kettle on."

Sabina smiled gently. "Thank you."

Liberty inspected Sabina from a distance and turned back towards Dean, reaching for his face as she did when she wanted to communicate telepathically. Dean closed the gap with his face, leaning towards her small hands. They were silent for a moment as she spoke to her father.

 _"_ _Who is that?"_ she asked, eyeing Sabina.

Dean glanced up at the teenager and smiled. _"Her name is Sabina. Her family needs our help,"_ he answered.

I watched as Liberty pulled memories from Dean's mind, watching what he knew about Sabina and her family. The images of how Dean pictured her family floated through both of our minds, staring and vague. _"Are we going to help her?"_ our eldest continued silently.

Staring in my direction, Dean shrugged. I nodded, entering the conversation from across the kitchen. _"I think we are, Lib. It's the right thing to do."_

Liberty leaned back, away from Dean and turned towards Sabina. "Hi, Sabina," she whispered. "I'm sorry about your family."

Glancing at Dean and then back at me, Sabina's eyebrows shot into the air and she covered her mouth. "How did she know? Did you tell her?"

"She can pull memories," Dean replied. "Lib's pretty talented."

Liberty grinned at Sabina and nestled in between the couch and Dean's hip. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, leaning back on the couch and Sabina turned towards me just as I heard the flutter of wings from behind us.

"Hey, Cas," I greeted without looking up. Sabina turned, gasped, and jumped about three feet into the air, attempting to get away from Castiel. Liberty giggled from her place on the couch next to Dean and Everett and Glory waved, both with food in their mouth.

"Good morning, Grace. Dean," Cas smiled, "good morning, tiny Winchesters."

Breathing hard behind me, Sabina whispered, "What. The. Hell."

It was the first time I had heard Sabina lose her calm. I turned slowly with an apologetic look on my face. "Sorry," I said quietly. "That's Cas. He's a friend."

"And he can just appear out of nowhere?" Sabina replied; her voice higher pitched than it normally was. "How did he just appear? Out of nowhere?"

Castiel stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at her with his cold blue gaze, as per regular angel inspection. "I am able to travel cross-dimensionally as I need," Cas explained calmly. He glanced at me, tilting his head. "Why is there a teenager in your kitchen?"

Unable to hold it back, I laughed and gestured to our guest. "This is Sabina," I explained. "Sabina, this is Castiel. He's an angel."

She was wide-eyed and silent, staring at the both of us in absolute disbelief.

"She is quiet," Cas observed. "Quieter than I am used to in this house. What is she doing here?"

I hung the towel that had fallen to the floor and leaned against the counter. "She needs our help figuring out what is happening to her family."

"What is happening to her family?" Cas asked, genuinely interested.

Sabina was beginning to get her breathing under control and I turned, holding my hand out for Cas to take. It was still easier to make physical contact to communicate telepathically with the angel because of his stronger-than-human mental walls that I had yet to be comfortable about breaking through.

He was silent as he read my mind and nodded slowly, finally taking a breath to agree with us. "Yes, I would agree that it is most likely a coven of witches."

Nodding, I glanced at Dean. "Wow, first try. You hear that, husband?"

He stuck his thumb in the air, still leaning his head back on the couch with his eyes closed as Faith ate.

"What is wrong with Dean?" Cas asked, turning back towards me. "He hasn't moved."

I shrugged. "I think having four kids is catching up to him," I replied. I spoke louder for effect, "Just be glad it's not five."

Very slowly, Dean lifted his head and narrowed his green eyes at me. "You wouldn't dare."

I winked at him flirtatiously and brought my attention back to the angel standing in my kitchen. "What's up, Cas?" I asked, glancing at Sabina to make sure she was still standing. Her breathing had slowed and she was watching Cas with caution.

Castiel turned and walked towards the space between Dean and I, completely ignoring Sabina. He spoke to the both of us as Dean finally lifted his head and picked Faith up, holding her against his chest and patting her gently. "If you are willing," Cas began, "I would like to teach you how to use your grace."


	18. Chapter 18

**A bonus chapter in celebration of Memorial Day weekend! I would really love to hear what everyone thinks so far. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy. Things are starting to pick up here at Winchester Ranch. I'm glad you're all along for the ride.

Love and internetty hugs,

TheGirlWithTheDinosarTattoo**

...

Chapter 18

Grace

"You wanna teach me how to use my grace," I repeated, crossing my arms in front of me. "Cas, I'm half human. Whatever grace I may or may not have isn't going to respond the same way as yours does." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Dean's green eyes flick to me, watching my reaction with interest and I knew it was because it was the first time I had brought Cas' grace up in conversation with the both of them present. I decided not to waste any more time feeling uncomfortable and I plowed on. "I don't think you'll be able to teach me much more than I already know. I feel kinda limited compared to you."

"Your status as a nephilim does not affect your grace," Cas argued. "Grace is grace, regardless of genetics. Yours is simply being housed in a body that might not be able to handle its effects as well as an angel's body might." He paused and considered it momentarily. "As angels, we are still able to use our grace effectively when we are using a vessel, so I see no reason that you would be unable to use yours at full capacity in a human body."

I glanced at Dean. He was moving towards Faith's blanket that was spread out on the rug and laid her down in the center, scattering toys in front of her. "You're saying that Grace has the same amount of grace as you?" Dean asked, finally turning away from our youngest daughter to participate in the conversation.

Cas turned and shrugged lightly, reminding me yet again that he spent too much time with humans. "She obviously has plenty of ability," he answered. "We watched her demonstrate her strength in Hell."

I was already shaking my head and holding out my hands, "No, no, no," I began. "I was pregnant with the twins. They were the ones that were supplying my abilities. The Mark— "

"The Mark simply spurs the ability you already possess," Cas interrupted. "The Mark completes you and provides you with a boost. When you're fueled by Dean or Everett's Mark, you are more angel than human, but not because you don't possess the energy all the time." Cas shrugged. "I believe that The Mark awakens the ability you have. It makes your body remember." Cas sighed heavily, avoiding eye contact.

Dean licked his lips and glanced at Sabina, acutely aware that we were having a conversation about my supernatural abilities in front of a stranger. "You're gonna teach her how to use her grace? How do you plan on teaching her, Mr. Miyagi?" Dean smiled at his own joke. "Little wax on? Little wax off?"

"Dean you seem to be confused. My name is Castiel." Cas tilted his head, completely unaware of what pop-culture Dean was referring to. "There will be no wax involved," he answered quietly.

Laughing, Dean patted his shoulder and shook his head. "Alright, while he figures out that I'm joking, I'm gonna head to the shop," Dean said, leaning to kiss my head. "You gonna be okay today?" His eyes flicked towards Sabina.

I nodded, lifting my eyebrows, "Apparently, I'm starting my grace training with Cas. I think we'll be fine."

Pausing to kiss each of the kids on the head as he rounded the table, Dean glanced up at me and smiled. "May the Force be with you," he grinned again. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. I don't feel like pulling an entire day and Stu will be there this afternoon." He looked around as he loaded up his pockets with his keys, phone, and wallet. "Didn't Serra come in awhile ago?"

I turned towards the steps, realizing that he was right. "She did," I laughed. "What the hell?"

"You can't hear her?"

I shook my head. "No. I'll go check on her," I replied, kissing him as he headed for the door. "Cas, don't go anywhere." Halfway up the steps, I could hear the interaction between he and Cas in hushed voices.

"Keep an eye on her today, will you?" Dean whispered to Cas as they both walked towards the front door. Castiel followed my husband out onto the porch to continue the conversation as Sabina busied herself getting a mug from the clean dishes on top of the counter ready for tea.

"Keep an eye on Grace?" Cas asked, confused.

Dean shook his head. "No, the girl. Sabina." He glanced over Cas' shoulder and gestured at her. "I know Grace said she was fine, but…" he shrugged.

"She is with your children," Castiel supplied.

Dean nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "Serra's had red flags about this whole thing and I can't help but trust her instincts. She has a tendency to just know these things. Grace can handle herself; just keep your feelers out for the kids."

…

Grace

I crested the top of the steps and padded into Liberty's bedroom. The second twin bed we had gotten for Jody's old apartment downstairs in the basement had come in handy. With Levi sleeping over as much as he did, we decided the easiest thing was to put the extra bed in Lib's room. As I turned the corner and stood in the doorway, I could see the rise and fall of Serra's side as she breathed, completely asleep, curled around her son. I laughed to myself and pulled my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture.

As I walked back downstairs, I could hear Sabina talking to Cas. "You're an angel? Like a real 'from heaven' angel?"

"I am an Angel of the Lord," Cas replied. I could tell by the tone of his voice, he seemed offended that she didn't seem to believe him. "The Winchesters and I have been close for a very long time."

"This is all so unreal," Sabina was saying as I walked back into the kitchen. "Angels? Nephilim? Psychics?" She shook her head. "What did I get myself into?"

My phone vibrated in my hand as I shrugged and took a breath. The text message was from Sam, asking about Serra, realizing that she hadn't come back to their house. I replied to him quickly, sending him the picture I took of her only moments ago, and faced Sabina.

"Look," I began. "This kind of stuff is all over the place; hunters are everywhere because the supernatural is everywhere. We just do a good job of hiding it." I took a bite of the toast that Everett had left on his plate after he joined Faith on the carpet. "Monsters walk among us. Angels, demons, and everything in between…it's all real. We exist. Just…quietly."

Brushing her hair out of her face, Sabina turned to Castiel. "What did you mean when you said she demonstrated her abilities in Hell?" Sabina asked, talking now to Cas.

Castiel glanced at me, asking permission. I nodded. Turning back to the teenager, he took a breath. "The whole story would take too long to discuss, but the 'short version'," Cas held up his fingers correctly like air quotes as he spoke, "is that Grace and Serra were kidnapped and taken to Hell and tortured for almost six weeks while they were both pregnant, a few years ago." Sabina gasped. "If you would like to join us in the barn, you are welcome to watch and learn what Grace can do."

…

Grace

Sam came over to our house not too long after he sent the text; a whimpering Charlotte lounging in his arms, rubbing her eyes haphazardly. "Sere fell asleep?" he asked, chuckling, as he walked into the kitchen.

I laughed and nodded. "Yeah, she walked in, didn't say anything, and went upstairs. She and Levi are still up there." I glanced at Charlie and raised my eyebrows, "She's been crying?"

Shrugging, Sammy nodded. "Until I climbed the steps to the back porch," he answered, gesturing behind him. "She seems calmer now."

"Faith's on the blanket down there," I replied, pointing to the floor behind him. "Charlie's welcome to join her."

Sam nodded and carefully set Charlotte down on the floor next to Faith. He watched with a grin on his face as Charlie leaned her entire body towards Faith, beaming at her cousin. "What are you guys up to?" Sam asked, relieved that his daughter had instantly relaxed.

"Cas says he's going to teach me how to use my grace." I glanced at the angel and the teenager to my left. "Thought about doing some research today too."

"I don't have to be to class until ten. I'll do the research," Sam said, collapsing onto the couch in the same place as Dean had been earlier. "You go with Cas. Learning how to use your grace sounds a lot more interesting." He smiled at the pile of kids on the floor, all doing various activities. "I'll hang out in here for a bit until my blushing bride decides to wake up."

Sabina giggled nervously, eyeing Sammy. "You guys all hang out together all the time. It's so amazing. It makes me really happy that you're all so close," she smiled, looking star struck once more.

Sam and I considered her momentarily and I grinned at my brother-in-law. Making a face, I tilted my head, "We are together a lot, aren't we. Does that make us creepy? I mean, it's not like we…share."

Sam laughed, shaking his head. "Grace," he chuckled. "I'm so glad Dean didn't hear you. He would never let you hear the end of it."

I blushed, covering my mouth and shaking my head. "Oh, God," I laughed. "I take it back. Never repeat that."

"For sure," he agreed, bending down to touch his daughter's toes and making her squirm. He chuckled contentedly as he watched the babies interact.

I smiled, knowing how lucky we were that both my sister and I ended up with our best possible matches. "All right, Cas," I sighed, taking another drink of coffee and shaking myself out of my reverie. "Let's go be Jedi."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Grace

"You're doing it wrong," Cas repeated for what seemed like the millionth time. Sabina sat on her chair in the corner of the barn, watching with interest. I sighed and shook my head, sweaty and annoyed. He continued as I shrugged out of my flannel and tossed it towards the table. "You're still trying to affect the objects, not the molecules around the object."

"I don't understand how to affect the _molecules_ , Cas," I sighed, running my hands through my hair, trying to contain my frustration towards him. "You're a terrible teacher. Definitely no Mr. Miyagi."

Castiel clicked his tongue and shrugged out of his trench coat; laying it on the bench to his left as his own irritation towards me pushed his patience. He dropped the suit jacket off his shoulders and straightened it before laying it next to his trench coat. Then, Castiel took the time to roll up his white shirtsleeves and glare at me; his penetrating blue stare annoyed. It was the most human I ever had seen him. I wondered if using me for a vessel had rubbed off on Cas a little too much.

"Seriously," I started, putting my hair up into a ponytail. "We've been out here for almost two hours and you're telling me that I'm doing everything wrong." I sighed and waved my hands around dramatically. "We've already established that I don't know what muscle to flex. Stop telling me what I'm doing wrong and tell me what I'm doing _right."_ I tilted my head as he grit his teeth together; a habit he picked up from Dean. "Maybe then I can build on what I _can_ do, not what I can't."

Sabina was watching us interact with such desperation; I thought she would end up falling out of her seat. Cas sighed and closed his eyes, thinking hard on how to present the lesson. "You need to think about how things affect the object you're trying to influence. Angels and their grace don't have an affect on what is happening, but they can influence the direction it goes. Move the molecules."

"I don't understand how to move molecules, Castiel. I am half human."

He rushed me then, getting close enough to my face to feel the heat coming from his body. I could see the flecks of sapphire in his blue eyes as he stared at me. I held my ground as he spoke. "I have been to the very depths of your soul and you are capable of doing what I am asking you to do," he whispered. "I was a part of your body. I helped to create your daughter. I know you can do this."

I couldn't stop one of my eyebrows from rising, still challenging the angel and full of doubt. He pressed his lips together, impatiently waiting for me to reply. Finally, I sighed, knowing Castiel had my best interests at heart. "Okay," I answered, taking a deep, shaky breath. "Again."

Cas stepped back and raised his hands towards me, palms out. Using his grace, he pushed at me and I could feel the boundaries of my personal walls be pressed in, like a vice. I closed my eyes, concentrating on what he was talking about. _Move the molecules,_ he had repeated over and over. I could feel his walls closing in on mine and I focused on pushing back, but I had already lost my footing. I struggled beneath his weight and gasped for air as I tried forcing my walls back out.

"She knows you won't hurt her," Dean's voice echoed through the barn, deep and authoritative. My concentration was broken and my focus was lost. I collapsed beneath Cas' grace and gasped for breath, almost falling to the ground.

"Of course I wouldn't hurt her," Castiel replied, backing away from me after helping me up. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Staring at my husband, I was shocked that he had been able to approach the barn with neither Cas nor myself realizing that he was coming. We had been so involved in training that I hadn't been paying attention to anything else.

"She knows she's safe," Dean continued, advancing towards me, a smile creeping across his face, knowing he got the best of both of us. "She's not responding in a stressful situation." He stared down at me, concentrating on my face. "You're over-thinking it."

I shook my head, trying to stay focused on my training and not get lost in those goddamn green eyes. "No, I should be able to just think about it for it to happen," I replied, frustrated. "No angel has ever had to be stressed out to use their grace."

"No angel has ever been half human," he whispered. Dean turned towards Castiel and smiled. "Attack me," he said playfully. "And mean it."

"What?" I asked, moving towards him, standing between them.

The concept seemed to dawn on Cas and his face smoothed out and he nodded at Dean. "Yes," he said quietly. "I understand."

Cas raised his hands again as Dean turned towards the angel. His smug grin disappeared as Cas forced him into taking an involuntary step backwards and Dean seemed to be reacting to something pushing him away from where I was standing. Furrowing my eyebrows, I realized the game they were playing. Cas would attack Dean so that, in theory, I would respond accordingly. The idea had merit.

Taking a deep breath, I refocused my energy to pushing Cas away from Dean, but I couldn't get him to budge. Cas smiled, knowing that I was already doing better. He pushed harder at my husband, forcing Dean to one of his knees. "Jesus, Cas," Dean grunted, trying to remain standing. "Remind me to never really piss you off."

I raised my right hand, anticipating nudging Cas enough to break his concentration, but the only thing my grace managed to do was ruffle Castiel's hair. He smiled again and glanced up at the hay bale that was perched on the rafters of the barn. It moved.

The smallest amount of fear stirred in my chest, knowing that Cas would never intentionally hurt Dean, but I also knew that hay bale weighed about one hundred and fifty pounds. It would definitely cause some damage. I pushed harder at Cas and finally, he took a step away from Dean, nodding lightly. "That was good, Grace. You are responding with more force."

The hay bale tipped again and the breath caught in my throat, trying to control both the bale and Cas at the same time. I shook my head and tried to swallow, knowing there was no way I would be able to continue the way I was going.

 _Move the molecules._

Dean grunted in effort again, attempting to stand through Cas' hold on him. I refocused my attention on the hay bale above us and shook my head. I would never be able to hold the hay bale in place. I had to change the way I thought about it.

 _Move the molecules._

The bale teetered on the edge of the rafters and creaked. I knew it was a breath away from coming down and Castiel and Dean watched it with an intense stare. With one more nudge from Cas, the bale came crashing down and I gasped, holding my hands out in front of me.

With my breath, time seemed to stand still.

Cas turned to smile at me, nodding slowly. Dean was frozen in place, staring at the hay bale tipping above him and piece-by-piece, the bale came apart in some sort of altered slow motion. I breathed slowly, not wanting to interrupt my thoughts, but allowed myself a small smile.

 _I was moving molecules._

I know it happened in a matter of seconds, but to me, it seemed like hours. When the dust settled, the hay bale was completely blasted apart and in a pile around Dean, who was still on his knees. He turned and grinned at me. "Did you do that?"

I nodded, breathing heavily. "I think I did."

"That's my girl," he replied; the smug grin I fell in love with playing across his lips.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Grace

We trained for hours that day after Dean left us to our own devices in the barn and went to watch the kids. Slowly, I began to feel the difference between trying to force my grace and working _with_ it to move the air and currents around me. Cas was right: moving molecules had been the right idea, it just took a different approach. Again, I was thankful for my husband and his deep-rooted understanding of who I was.

"Don't move the object," Castiel repeated as we walked back to the big house that afternoon. "Move the molecules around the object to influence the direction."

I nodded, smiling at Everett, who ran ahead of me towards the house as I carried Faith. They had joined us later in the evening, beckoning us back into the house. "I think I'm heading in that direction, right?"

"Definitely," Cas complimented. He reached out his hand, touching my arm and stopped walking towards the house. I stopped too, staring at him expectantly. He took a deep breath, as if he was readying himself for something; yet another human motion that he had acquired since using me as a vessel. "I still feel that there is unspoken tension between the three of us and I apologize if I crossed a line with my grace while I was a part of you."

Involuntarily, my face flushed and I stared at my feet. Shaking my head, I tried to direct the conversation, "It's okay, Cas. We've talked about it. In depth," I giggled and stared up at him, his blue eyes searching mine. "He's just glad that you were there." Neither one of us seemed willing to say Dean's name.

Castiel smiled down at the baby in my arms. "She is beautiful," he whispered, reaching out to touch Faith's chubby cheek. "It's very strange," he continued. "I feel more connected to her than your other children. I feel like she is a part of me."

My gaze flicked to Castiel's face as he gazed down at my daughter. He hadn't shaved in a few days; the stubble that lined his jaw was a bit longer than usual. His tie was loose and his hair was sticking up in odd directions as the wind blew through the field. I sighed, feeling a deep connection to Castiel that no one else in my family would ever understand. "You helped make her, Cas," I breathed. "You were there. You're as much a parent as we are."

Shaking his head, he disagreed. "She is made up of yours and Dean's genetic codes. I had nothing to do with that."

I touched his hand gently, halting his movement across Faith's cheek. "Yeah," I agreed. "But you put all the pieces together."

Cas smiled weakly at me then, nodding once. "I helped," he smiled. "Thank you for allowing me to be a part of her life." He glanced up at the house and raised his eyebrows. "A part of all of their lives."

"It wouldn't be right if you weren't Cas," I replied, turning towards Everett, waiting impatiently on the porch. "We wouldn't be the same without you around."

Smiling at me, Castiel nodded once and together, we turned and fell into step next to each other once more.

…

The next few days passed with the Winchester clan falling back into a hunting routine. Whenever Serra, Dean, and Sam were at home, they were researching what to do about Sabina's hometown. I continued my training with Cas when I had the chance, the kids all looking on; fascinated with what I could do.

One night, we had Emery and Jody over for dinner and so we could brief them on what was happening in Holden, Maine. We told them that Dean and I were taking the case and heading up at the end of the week to take care of the coven of witches. Leaving with Dean was against my better, more logical judgment, but I couldn't help the nagging feeling of fear at the idea of letting my husband go with Serra and Sammy. My instincts told me that the kids would be safer, here with Serra, Sam, Jody, and Emery than with me alone, which had been the other option.

Em and Jody had, of course, agreed (like they always did) to watch the kids if need be while we were gone. Sam and Serra would be there when they weren't at work. After all, we decided, it took a village.

Late that night, the kids were all in bed and Jody and Em watched a movie in the living room while Sam and Dean went over any leftover logistics of the shop in our absence and the basics of protective sigils against hex bags. Serra followed me out the door as we headed for the barn for one last training session before we departed.

Cas and I were completely telepathic by now, exchanging thoughts and ideas during training without really thinking about using the words. Serra was very quickly annoyed by our silence and decided to make it a point to make as much noise as possible.

"You know, it's no good if you can't react quickly. There's not going to be a chance to focus and concentrate in the field," she was saying, leaning back in the chair next to the table in our barn. "You're going to have to just do it when it matters."

"She will be able to rise to the occasion," Cas responded, defending me. "She'll get it when she needs to."

"How do you know if you don't practice?" Serra countered, standing from the chair and crossing her arms in front of her. "She knows what's coming. You think about the attack before you do it."

"It's part of the training, Sere," I replied, sighing. "Not everything has to move as quickly as you do."

I caught sight of Dean leaning in the doorway of the barn having followed us out. He was almost hidden by the two cars we still possessed from our youth. My red Toyota and Serra's burgundy Acura sat; both covered with tarps, waiting for their chance to be useful again.

He smiled when we made eye contact and walked around my car slowly, waiting for Serra to register him. She didn't turn around, but instead pointed back at him. "Dean knows what I'm talking about, right?" Nothing escaped my sister's prowess for observation when it mattered.

Clicking his tongue in disappointment at being seen, Dean sighed. "What, that not everything is as simple as training? I think even Grace and Cas might know that, Luck," he muttered muttered, chuckling to himself as Serra turned to face him. "How do you think _you_ would change training, Obi-Wan?"

Serra tilted her head, turning back towards me. "I wanna shoot her," I said.

"You wanna _what?"_ I asked, giving my sister my full attention. "What the hell, Serra?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, come on," she answered, dropping her hands from her hips and taking a step towards me. "It's all great and wonderful that you can ' _move molecules',_ " she mocked, holding her fingers into air quotes. "But when the shit hits the fan, like it _always_ does, you're not going to have the chance to react slowly. You're going to have to throw yourself into action without thinking about it."

"Shooting me doesn't exactly seem like training," I countered. "Sounds more like a trip to the hospital."

Dean came closer, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the two of us argue. I could see him flick his jade gaze towards Cas out of the corner of my eye. Cas seemed to shrug, considering the possibility.

I wheeled on my husband, turning physically towards him. "You can't be serious," I scoffed. "You want her to shoot me?"

Pressing his lips together, Dean's dimples showed as he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Gracie," he began slowly. "She's got a point."

"You're agreeing with the sociopath?"

Cracking a smile and licking his lips, Dean's eyes now darted to my sister, who stood behind me with a grin plastered on her face. "I'm not condoning her shooting you. I'm just saying that it might be time to up the ante. We're leaving tomorrow." He sighed, lifting his eyebrows and pleading with me. "I need you to be as battle ready as you can be, especially if we're going up against a coven that can control three thousand people."

"It's not like you're gonna die," Serra spat, rolling her hazel eyes. "Cas will pull the bullet and heal you if it makes it past your barrier."

I glanced at Cas and he sighed, nodding slowly.

Dean moved closer to me, touching my back with his hand. "Don't do it if you feel like you're not ready," he whispered.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right. Like she'll back off now."

Behind me, Serra had already pulled one of her forty-fives and was emptying the clip of Weapons Stone bullets and replacing them with regular, run-of-the-mill bullets and I started shaking my head. "Oh, Jesus," I said. "At least change to your nine!"

"Oh, you big baby," she replied, rolling her hazel eyes. "A bullet is a bullet."

"Serra!" I shouted, "You're not shooting me with your forty-five!"

Dean backed away, letting us face off on each other. He looked anxious, with his arms folded across his chest, but he knew that Serra was only trying to push my boundaries like only my sister could. He and Cas exchanged looks and shrugged at each other helplessly. Apparently, I was on my own.

"Serra, come on," I found myself pleading. "I don't know if I can jump right into bending the trajectory of a bullet."

She clicked her tongue, making a face. "That's ridiculous. You did all kinds of shit during our lovely stay in Hell," she taunted. "What, the big, bad nephilim can only control what she _wants_ to control? Come on, Angelina Jolie! Curve the bullet!"

"Serra…" I whined, backing away from her, holding up my hands.

"I'm gonna shoot you," she said. "Get ready. Move the goddamn molecules."

I was shaking my head and backing away from my sister, unwilling to believe that she would actually raise her gun to me again, but at the same time, nothing Serendipity did ever really surprised me. As I considered it, I wondered if Serra got a bit of pleasure out of shooting me. _Bitch,_ I thought, holding back a smile.

She grinned at me, hearing the thought I pushed towards her. _Jerk,_ she automatically responded in her mind, grinning. Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head. "Three," Serra began counting down and I took another step back from her. We were about eight feet apart. That wasn't nearly enough time.

I shook my head, "Serra, wait. At least back up."

She raised her eyebrows and flicked the safety off one of the silver-on-black custom engraved forty-fives she prized so highly. I took another couple of steps back, my heart in my throat.

Raising the gun, she counted again, "Two."

"Oh my god," Dean muttered, looking away.

I started to sweat and made eye contact with Cas. He nodded encouragingly, completely believing in my abilities. At least someone did.

"One," I heard her say and I gasped as she pulled the trigger, aiming for my shoulder.

In an instant, it was as if time itself stood still, and I had the time to tilt my head and consider the bullet as it crept across the space between us. I watched it spin and could feel its heat. I could see Castiel's blue stare across the barn and I realized that he was concentrating on the bullet as much as I was, though I knew that he would not make an effort to save me unless it slipped past my shield.

I held up my hands, palms out, and closed my eyes as time slipping back into reality. The gunshot echoed off the barn's walls and everyone froze as the bullet seared passed my arm; not even close enough to graze me. It embedded itself in the hay bale stack behind me.

"Holy fuck," Dean sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I don't know if I can come down here to watch anymore." He rubbed his face with both of his hands.

I made eye contact with my sister and we both grinned. "I fucking told you," Serra whispered.

Nodding, I sighed, adrenaline shaking my entire body. "Again," I breathed, holding up my hands, palms out. She raised her gun once more and fired.

It was a curious sensation; the human side of my body reacted in a panic, wanting to simply jump out of the way as another shot of adrenaline tore through my system, but the angel half was rooted to the spot, watching with interest as the bullet made its way across the space between us. I could see Dean out of the corner of my eye, his square jaw locked into place as he stared at me.

As I concentrated on the bullet, I could feel myself extend my senses and _push_ the air away from me. The bullet leaned through the air, curving off towards the left and again, missed me completely as I heard the shot and felt the fire as it passed by.

Taking a deep breath and running his hands through his hair, Dean shook his head. "It looks like it's gonna hit you right up until the last second," he growled. "This is hard to watch."

Serra glanced at him and shrugged. "She needs to get out ahead of it more," she commanded. Directing her commentary back at me, Serendipity tilted her head. "If you're running or protecting someone else, you're not going to have time to consider it before it hits you. You need to be able to stop them, just like I've seen those asshats stop the bullets I fire at them."

I was sweaty with exertion. "Goddammit, Serra," I breathed. "This is our first time doing this. You wanna give me a little credit here? This is fucking hard."

"No rest for the weary," she goaded. "Again. This time, moving."

Dean backed away from me and held my stare. I could hear him thinking, _If you're done, tell her you're done._

I shook my head once at him, knowing that Serra would never let me quit now. I was making progress.

I started to walk away from her, knowing she was already lifting her gun and aiming towards me. I turned, keeping myself in front of the hay bales so the bullet wouldn't go far. Serra fired.

The sear of pain on my shoulder was enough to irritate me. "This is my favorite fucking flannel," I growled, turning towards my sister and pointing to the bloody rip though the arm of my teal flannel. I healed almost immediately as I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Do a better job," she spat, unrelenting.

Serra fired as I walked back the other way and this time; the bullet curved around my shoulder and sank into the hay behind me. She grinned.

It was getting easier and I could feel my confidence rise as I paced back and forth across the path I had carved in front of the bales of hay. Finally, I took a deep breath and pivoted, heading directly towards my sister, closing the gap. "Keep shooting, Serra," I growled, striding towards her.

Serendipity hesitated, gritting her teeth. "God, Grace, this is starting to make even _me_ nervous."

"Keep shooting."

Closing her eyes and firing, Serra's bullet was close enough to my face that I could see the grooves of the brass that were etched from the barrel of her gun. I reacted the same way again, gasping and holding up my hands, palms out and froze it, holding it in place in front of my shoulder, only inches from making contact.

Dean let out a puff of air as I stared at it, smiling.

"Again," I whispered, walking away from my sister and glancing at my husband. "More."

We were at it for hours. Dean watched from his place at the table and Cas stood quietly next to him, offering a suggestion to me occasionally. I had shrugged out of my flannel and was still sweaty from effort in my tank and pajama pants as Serra fired at me, over and over in different situations. Once she emptied yet another clip, she lowered her gun and lifted an eyebrow at me.

"You're gonna need to practice multiple shots and multiple targets," Serra said, reloading again. "They're not always going to be shooting at just you. What if it's at him?" she gestured towards Dean with the gun in her right hand. "Or the kids?"

"Don't you think you've had enough for one night?" Dean asked, rubbing his face. "I mean, look at the two of you. You're sweaty and pissed, all high on adrenaline. Things are gonna start getting messy. Let's just call it a night."

Dean made the move to stand from the table towards the back end of the barn and I didn't even hear her think it before she actually raised the weapon. Serra didn't hesitate. She fired at Dean without warning and I held out my hands without thinking about it, gasping, trying to stop the bullet before it embedded itself into Dean's shoulder.

"What the actual _fuck_ , Serendipity?" I screamed. She fired again. I raised my hands and turned to focus on Serra as she fired over and over.

As she made the move to pull the trigger once more, the gun ripped out of her hands and was tossed across the room, landing in a heap of hay behind our old cars. I was breathing heavily as I stared at my sister and my entire body was shaking; whether it be from rage or adrenaline, I wouldn't know. Dean blew out the breath he had been holding slowly as he watched us stare at each other.

"It had to be done," Serra whispered. "You would have never let me do it if you had known what was coming."

I was seething. Without another word, I turned on the ball of my foot and strode out of the barn, leaving my sister alone with Dean and Castiel. I closed my walls completely, shutting down and ignoring anything she had to say as I made my way through the wheat. Slamming the kitchen door behind me hard enough to rattle the windows, I tried to ignore the panic that had finally caught up to the rest of my emotions and allowed myself to sink to the floor, holding my head in my hands, fighting the urge to break down in tears. I could hear the continued, quiet conversation from the barn as Dean spoke.

"You just crossed a line, Serra," Dean murmured. "It's one thing to push her, but you could have saved that for another day."

"You know as much as I do that she is basically a giant, walking target. If I don't do it to her in a controlled setting, someone or something will, in a place where we can't control it." Serra walked over to where I had tossed her gun after tearing it from her hands with my abilities. "You saw how she reacted; throwing my gun across the barn. She's a natural and you know it. There's no way she would have let that bullet hit you."

Dean sighed and shook his head. "It's not me I'm worried about, Luck," Dean began, walking past she and Cas. "I'm worried about the damage you just did to her psyche, especially considering this is all pretty new. This has been a lot to take in one night."

"She's my sister and I _have_ to know that she can handle what is out there." Serra shook her head slowly and sighed, "She's been through worse. She'll be fine."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Serra

I strode my way across the field, headed for my sister hiding in the kitchen with her husband and her angel in my wake.

"Serra," Dean warned, his voice quiet. "Come on now, leave it alone."

I turned on him and held my index finger in his face, anger hitting my voice unexpectedly. "Don't think you have the right to tell me how to treat my sister," I whispered, unusually close to his face.

The expression slowly slid off his face and the lids of his faded green eyes fell to half-mast. He locked his jaw as he stared at me. I knew I was too far into my sudden rage to be afraid, but it was the first time in a long time my brother-in-law intimidated me.

Dean took a slow breath and tilted his head dangerously as Castiel looked on from over his shoulder. "Let me tell you one thing, Serendipity," his voice was low, barely loud enough for me to hear. "In the past five years, your sister has gone from by-touch psychic to giving birth to a baby that is more angel than human. She's been through some shit. If you think you're going to walk into _my_ house to tear her apart, you've got another thing coming."

" _She's_ been through some shit?" I gaped, taking an involuntary step away from Dean. "What about me? I spent six weeks in Hell, just the same as her. I've been shot, possessed, kidnapped, and attacked by more monsters than I can count. My husband died and came back. If she's having a hard time, I guess it's safe to say that I have been, too."

Dean pressed his tongue into the back of his teeth as he took another breath, trying to stay as calm as he could, but the anger rolled off him in waves. "Did you have an unborn child killed?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Faith's fine. She's upstairs."

"Was your husband locked into a demon spell and fuck _six_ other women? Do you pick up other people's emotions just by being in the same room? Do you have visions of the future? Is your son weighed down with a fucking genetic Mark of Cain?" Dean fired off the questions one after another and I struggled to hold onto my anger. I looked away as he continued relentlessly, closing the gap between us. "Are you learning to use superpowers that you didn't know you had? Are your daughters psychics? Can _you_ move molecules with your _fucking_ mind?"

I took a ragged breath and shook my head, my resolve still holding on, but the shame of guilt made it impossible to meet his eyes. "That's not the point, Dean," I replied quietly. "You guys are all afraid to push her. I'm the only one that knows she can do more. I've seen it."

"And she'll have time to master it," he growled. "You can't expect it all, one night in a barn."

Glancing at the Big House, I took another breath, stabilizing my emotions. "I will not have my sister die because she doesn't know how to use the power she has. If all it takes is pushing her harder and her getting a little pissed off at me, then I think it's worth it." I turned again and continued to walk towards the porch, retreating to the safety of Grace's house.

"Serra," Dean's voice rang through the night. I stopped mid-step, but didn't turn around. He continued, "I'm on her side. No matter what she says, I'm backing her."

I changed subjects without warning, deciding to get everything I was feeling out in the open. "You know she doesn't want us to hunt, right?" I asked, still from my position near the porch.

Dean shrugged, going with my switch easily. "Truth is; I don't want us to hunt, either."

I shook my head, knowing that nothing I would say would change his mind. He was shamelessly loyal to Grace and the familiar edge of jealousy floated through my chest. I was Grace's _sister_. I should still have some pull in her decision making…it had been us before the boys came along. _Just us_.

Cas spoke for the first time as we stood in the field between our houses. "You and Grace being 'just us' changed drastically when the Winchesters entered your lives, Serendipity," he said calmly. "You are a unit now, not just the two of you. You must consider every member of this family. Grace has only our safety in mind."

"Yeah, it's funny," I replied ironically. "Me too."

Climbing the steps to the Big House, I opened the door with the boys in my wake. Emery and Jody were tidying up the living room; throwing pillows back on the couch and putting toys in the basket at the end of the couch. Em looked up as I stormed in, looking around for Grace.

"What's the matter?" Emery asked as I paced through the kitchen.

"Where is Grace?" I asked, still glancing around the house, ignoring Emery's question.

I heard her sigh behind me as she stepped out from the darkness of the dining room. "I'm right here," Grace whispered. "What the hell do you want?"

Turning, I glanced at the back door where Dean and Cas had entered the room. Fear still rippled through my mind; worried about how Dean would react to the conversation I was about to have with Grace. Sam stirred from his place on the couch, obviously waking to the anger in our voices.

Ignoring everything, I plunged into the unknown. "I want to know why you abandoned ship out there," I answered, putting my hands on my hips. "We had a good thing going and you just ran away!"

"Ran away?" Grace repeated, tilting her head. "I was done. Right now, I'm done with you, I'm done training, and I'm done with you shooting at my husband. It happens more often than it should," she finished sarcastically.

Sam was standing, walking slowly towards us as we faced off in the dining room. From the corner of my eye, I could see the flick of his eyes towards his brother to ask what had happened. Dean shook him off as he continued to stare at me and Grace.

"The bullets never even got close," I sighed, letting my head fall back in exasperation. "You were on them before they had a chance to cross the room." Holding out my hand, I motioned how my gun was torn from my hand. "Grace, you were able to take the gun out of my hand with your fucking _mind_!" I chanced a glance at Dean, who had his arms crossed again, watching me intently. "I think it's safe to say that you would have never even come close to doing something like that training with just Cas and Dean. They don't push you hard enough. They're afraid!"

"Afraid? Afraid of what?" Grace yelled, moving closer to me. "Jesus, Serra! You shot at Dean before I was ready! What if you hit him somewhere Cas wouldn't be able to repair?"

"You shot at Dean?" Sam asked, finally joining the conversation. "Serra, what were you thinking?"

Instantly, I was pissed at everyone in the room. "No!" I yelled, wheeling on my husband. "You don't get to chastise me for pushing her. You didn't see her! You don't know how much talent she has! You weren't out there. She was on it."

Emery was holding up her hands, gesturing at Grace and me to calm down and take a step back. The movement was familiar, having seen her do it too many times before, in exactly the same way. A part of me ached to go back when it was simpler. "Girls, stop," she said quietly. "Back up. What happened?"

I shook my head at Emery. "What happened doesn't matter. I want to know what she's playing at," I said, taking another step towards Grace. "What happened to you that you're backing off? Why, all of a sudden, are you so hesitant to do this?"

Grace crossed her arms and shook her head. "I'm not hesitant to learn."

"Then what the fuck is the problem? You're mad because I shot at Dean? The immortal? Even if I had made the shot, no one is going to let him die!"

She ignored me and stared over my shoulder, making eye contact with her husband, who still hovered by the back door. I glanced behind me towards Dean, but he ignored me, only having eyes for Grace.

"Grace!" I yelled again, "What is the problem?"

"I had a vision."

The room was instantly silent and I did my best to swallow. Grace hadn't had a vision (at least that I knew about) in a few years now because she was constantly so in tune with her angelic abilities. We figured the reason she used to have visions was because without use, her concentration of angelic energy would build up and eventually bubble over. I was now on edge with this new information.

Dean stepped into the light of the kitchen, but didn't approach her. "A vision of what?" he asked; his voice still low, full of anger towards me.

"It was a snippet," Grace replied, shaking her head sadly. "I know it wasn't the whole thing, but it was what I've been afraid of since I agreed to start hunting again."

"What, Grace?" Dean repeated, taking yet another step towards her.

Grace's blue stare found me. She mulled over her thoughts and tried to decide what to say. "I saw Lib," she began, her voice almost a whisper. "She was about sixteen years old, standing at the edge of the table with you, loading angel bullets into a gun."

Dean's answer almost seemed involuntary. "No," he whispered.

Grace's eyes flicked to Dean and she nodded as tears filled her eyes. "This is why I didn't want to start hunting again," she replied, speaking mostly to me. "We stopped the cycle for awhile, but then, when we went out looking for a case, I started to get images of the kids; scenes where they're older and always readying for a fight," she explained quietly, shaking her head. "We didn't stop it. We just delayed it."

I stared at my sister and finally realized what she was so upset about. After all this time, she had been convinced that if we stopped hunting and just led normal, comfortable lives, our kids wouldn't end up walking the same path that we had taken. Grace had tried not to let them become hunters.

Shaking my head, I narrowed my eyes, disbelieving. "You can't have expected to just disappear out of that world, Grace," I began quietly. "Think about what and who we are. We're not just run of the mill fang and monster hunters, here." I took a deep breath and chanced a glance at Sam. "We're big time. We're the fucking Winchesters."

"Winchesters die," Grace whispered.

"And then we come back," I replied. "Really fucking pissed." I turned to Dean, almost pleading with him, knowing that if I won him over, I would eventually get Grace as well. "You have to see what I see, Dean," I explained. "We're not normal. You've got The Mark and you're still referred to in Heaven as Michael's Vessel." Raising my finger to point at Grace, I took a deep breath, continuing. "She's half and half. Your kids are psychics and angels, and Sam was Lucifer's Vessel…" I faded off; the title still pained me to admit out loud. "We're best friends with an angel who took possession of your wife to help create your youngest child."

Dean's jaw flexed, but he remained silent.

Almost a whisper, I continued, "They called me a Warrior of Heaven." I struggled to breathe, trying to hold it together to prove my point. "I have a stone that makes any weapon that I picture in my mind with a metal I've never seen before, and I'm betting that one or both of my kids will be able to do the same thing." I turned back towards my sister and shook my head slowly. "You had to know there was no getting out, Gracie. This is who we are. This is what we do. I know that all of this," I spread my hands, gesturing to everyone in the room, "this was some kind of fate…we were _supposed_ to end up together. I don't know why yet, but I'm sure we'll find out, one way or another."

Grace closed her eyes, forcing the tears that had gathered there to spill down her cheeks. Dean took another step towards her and I knew that he wanted very badly to reach out to touch her. She was like a magnet, specially designed for only him. I glanced behind me at Sam, who watched with a pained expression on his face. He pressed his lips together, waiting for someone to make the next move.

We waited for Grace to speak. She wiped her face, taking a ragged breath as she did so. Finally, she breathed one simple phrase, "I know."

Behind me, Dean huffed out the air he had been holding and I turned to watch him shake his head sadly. I knew they had both reached acceptance.

Turning back to Grace, I nodded. "I know you do," I added calmly. "You've known that there's no getting out of this for awhile, but just think about it Gracie. We go out, we go out together." I swallowed hard and took a step back from my sister, expecting Dean to take my place and close the gap. Instead, Dean remained where he was, almost anticipating Grace's next move. She strode over to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and kissing my scalp.

"There's no need to be jealous of Dean," she whispered. "You're always going to be my blood."

I nodded silently into her neck and closed my eyes, thankful that my sister was able to read minds.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Sam

Serra and Grace scare me sometimes. Just when you think they're going to start throwing punches, they start to cry and hug and then I remember that female emotions are more supernatural than anything we have ever hunted.

I glanced up at Dean and shook my head as he returned my stare. I sighed as Serra and Grace released their hug and opened my arms for Serra to curl into me, Grace following suit with Dean. From somewhere behind me, I heard Jody sigh heavily, relieved that their argument didn't escalate the way that we thought it would.

"Have they always been like this?" Jody asked Emery quietly, leaning over towards her and whispering behind her hand.

Emery chuckled quietly, shaking her head. "My little natural disaster and my little nuclear weapon…they've been fighting like this since they were about half their size."

I heard Dean laugh quietly, the adrenaline leaving his system and giddiness replacing the angst he felt, just moments before. "It's enough to drive you to drink," he commented, glancing at Emery.

"You don't know the half of it," Emery answered, sitting heavily on the arm of the couch. It creaked under her slight frame and we all turned towards the sound.

"Be careful," Grace commented. "The arm on that side has been busted for awhile. I have no idea how it happened."

Emery stood and walked towards us with her arms open, intending to hug all four of us as we embraced in the dining room. "Come on, kids. I think we've all had about enough excitement tonight. Time for bed."

Nodding, I motioned upstairs. "Charlie and Faith are sharing a crib and Levi is in Lib's room again," I explained, glancing over my shoulder at Dean. "I'll come by in the morning to pick them up."

"Tell me again how many kids we have?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised as he stared down at his wife. She smiled weakly and ignored his sarcasm as she leaned her head into his chest again. Addressing me, he shrugged. "What's two more?"

…

Serra and I walked hand in hand across the field back towards the Small House. "What exactly happened in the barn tonight?" I asked quietly. "Dean and Grace were really pissed."

Shrugging, Serra hesitated. "I pushed her. She's getting really good at using her angel mojo and I wanted to see what she could really do, so I shot at Dean."

"Serra," I sighed, shaking my head. I knew Cas and Grace would never let anything happen to my brother accidentally, but I really considered that my wife had crossed a line. "What did she do?"

"She got all pissed and ran inside."

I shook my head, "No," I countered. "I mean after you shot him. Did she stop the bullet or did Cas?"

I didn't expect Serra to grin up at me, but that's exactly what she did. "You should have seen her, Sammy. She stopped four bullets right in the motherfucking air. They just hung there, staring at Dean's shoulder like she froze time, then she ripped the gun right out of my hands and tossed it across the barn with just her grace."

I could feel my mouth fall open in shock, "I didn't know she could do that."

"I don't think she did either." Serra sighed as we climbed the porch steps. "That's what I'm talking about, though. It's why I pushed her. No one else will."

As soon as we were in the door, Serra began to peel her clothes off, one layer at a time, as she had been doing since before I knew her. Leaving a trail behind her, I smiled and shook my head as I watched her climb the stairs in just her underwear and bra, leaving her jeans at the foot of the staircase. Kicking them aside lightly, I followed her.

"So when the kids get old enough to care, are you going to leave the strip tease to our bedroom?" I asked as pulled her hair up into a haphazard bun on the top of her head.

She grinned at me from her place next to the bed. "Oh, you don't think they'll enjoy their mother walking around in her superhero undies?" She giggled and glanced down at herself happily. "These ones have Wonder Woman on them."

I bent my head closer to her and smiled lightly. "They're pretty cute," I admitted, stroking her face with the back of my hand, sending tingles through my skin.

"I'm glad you approve," Serra whispered, pushing herself up on her tiptoes to reach my face. She kissed me sweetly and ran a hand through my hair.

These moments of gentle caresses and loving glances were rare between my wife and me. When we were alone together, normally we were all hands and sweat, pushing each other around and being rougher than we needed to be. That was our typical style, and I loved every minute of it, but staring at the woman that I had married and had bore my children, I realized that I loved her more now than I ever had, simply because she was unyielding in her personality. Serendipity was herself without apologies and it was refreshing. Pushing Grace to do the same was natural for Serra and at this moment; I was in awe of my wife.

Bringing my face closer to hers, I cupped her cheeks with my hands and smiled down at her. "Thank you," I whispered, kissing her.

"For what?" she answered through my kiss. "My Wonder Woman chonies?"

I laughed and shook my head, brushing a renegade strand of hair out of her face. "For being shamelessly you," I answered, wrapping my arms around her and picking her up as I pressed her to my chest. She wrapped her arms around me and I could feel the warmth building as our tongues danced.

The next thing I knew, she was standing on the bed, her tiny frame bending only slightly to keep contact with me as we continued to kiss. She unbuttoned my shirt and slowly pulled it off my shoulders as I worked my belt and kicked off my shoes. My clothes pooled at my feet and I climbed up on the bed to join her.

Serra turned and straddled my waist as we kissed, entwining our fingers together as she pushed my arms down to the sides of my face. I had no idea when she had shed her Wonder Woman panties, but the next thing I knew, she pushed herself down onto me and we found a deep rhythm, sounds of pleasure escaping our lips occasionally. I pushed her back slightly, sitting up and wrapping myself around her and her legs automatically curled around my waist, her hands still tangled in my hair.

"Your hair is too long," she mumbled into my ear as I kissed her neck and ear. After her comment, I bit down on her earlobe, harder than I needed to. Serra gasped in pleasure and giggled. "Okay," she whispered, "you can keep it long."

We made love for hours, napping in between the sessions, breathing hard at every time we collapsed next to each other. Finally, around three in the morning, I turned towards my still-naked wife and smiled lightly as I rolled towards her.

"Sere?" I whispered, wondering if she was sleeping.

She replied with a soft, "Mm?"

"I love you."

I could see the silhouette of her hair and the curve of her hips against the moonlight as she turned towards me. In the dim of the room, her eyes shined as they found my face. Smiling, she replied, "I love you, too, Sammy. Just remember that the next time I really piss you off."

"Way to be sweet and sentimental," I teased, cupping her face with my hand.

We fell asleep minutes later, listening to the breeze as it swirled around the house.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Dean

Emery and Jody left pretty soon after Sam and Serra did and I watched Cas put his hand on my wife's shoulder, nodding encouragingly at her, and a pang of something I didn't recognize shot through my chest.

 _Holy shit_ , I thought. _I'm jealous…of Cas?_

I tried to shake the feeling before Grace caught wind of it, but as Cas walked to the front door to let himself out, waving his goodbye at me as he passed, I watched Grace's blue gaze find my eyes and she licked her lips nervously.

 _Too late._

"There's nothing going on between us," Grace said quietly, approaching me. "There's nothing to be jealous about."

Licking my lips, I looked away, trying to think of something clever to say, but now I was obsessed with Cas' touch on Grace's shoulder, and then my mind went ahead and pictured the scene she had shown me; his grace wrapped around her body…caving into the pleasure that rippled between them. I closed my eyes, trying to shake the scene.

"Dean," she whispered, leaning into my chest. "Stop. We've been through this. I thought we were done talking about it?"

"I am," I grumbled, shaking my head. "We are." She was closer now, reaching up on her tip toes, touching my cheek and my hair, my skin tingling beneath her touch. Finally, I opened my eyes and stared into hers, taking a deep, ragged breath, realizing what I needed to do. "Because you're mine."

Grace nodded slowly, her expression still concerned. Rougher than she was used to, I wrapped my arms around her, pushing her back towards our bedroom. I kissed her hard, holding the back of her head with my hand and pulling her waist closer to mine.

I was already breathing hard as I shut the door, locking it behind me. There would be no interruptions tonight. Turning back towards Grace, she waited to see what my plan was, her eyes wide and her lips parted slightly. She looked damn hot with wavy blonde strands falling out of the loose bun on top of her head and her white, skin-tight tank lifting slightly on one hip, showing just enough skin.

I approached her quickly, my hands reaching for her curves. "This," I growled, dipping my head to kiss her neck, "belongs to me."

Grace breathed into my hair, sighing into my ear. She nodded.

I reached down to pull off her tank top, spilling her hair down her shoulders as the bun came down; blonde waves cascading down her back. "You are _my_ wife," I whispered, my voice strained with need already. "The only one that gets to have you is _me_."

Grace wrapped her arms around my shoulders, holding me tightly against her skin. She nodded again, her cheeks flushed with passion. As she reached for my belt, I swatted her hands away and refocused my attention solely on her body. I pushed my fingers through her hair as I kissed her deeply again and she gasped in pleasure, just spurring me on. "All of this," I grabbed a fist of her hair and tugged, "this is all mine too."

Her eyes found mine and she nodded once more. "Uh-huh," was all she was able to say.

Turning, I tossed her onto the bed and held her down as I climbed on top of her, leaving my clothes in a pile on the ground. I gripped her wrists and held them to the bed as I kissed her deeply, breathing hard through our noses. I couldn't get close enough to her. I couldn't show her enough how much I loved her, how much I had missed her…how much I _needed_ her in order to survive.

Moans escaped through her lips, whining slightly as I broke contact with her long enough to stare down at her. I pushed into her, not hesitating any longer. She pulled at my shoulders, dragging her nails across my skin and I shuddered, knowing that there was nothing to hold us back.

Hours later, we were gasping, sweaty, and satisfied. Grace turned to my touch, rolling towards me and laying across my chest as I traced her cheek with my thumb. "Mine," I whispered.

Grace nodded, agreeing once more. "Yours," she reiterated quietly, smiling up at me. Laying her head down on the pillow next to me, she was asleep in seconds, breathing deeply as I laid my hand across her back possessively. For the first time since I had been home, I felt like we had been reunited.

…

The next morning came too quickly. It was too bright and there was too much noise.

Levi and Liberty came crashing into our room as Grace was getting dressed, their hair a shambles as they chased each other around our bed. "Hey, hey," I muttered, "slow down. It's too early for that."

Lib stopped on my side of the bed and reached over to my face, pulling an eyelid open. "It's six-thirty, Daddy," she whispered, with Grace giggling next to me.

"That's still too early, Meatloaf," I groaned, rolling towards Grace, trying to escape the kids. Levi stood at the foot of the bed and jumped up and down repeatedly, his long, dark hair bouncing around his face. "Oh my God, Grace," I sighed, watching Levi's hair cloud his vision from my position in bed. "Cut that kid's hair."

"What, right now?" Grace laughed. "Sam will kill me."

"Let me deal with Sam. He leaves his kids here all the time. If they're gonna live under my roof, they're gonna be able to see."

Grace turned to me as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. "You're serious," she commented with her eyebrows furrowed.

"Hell yes, I'm serious," I answered, pulling on a shirt. "That is getting ridiculous."

Turning towards Levi, Grace giggled again and asked, "Lee, you want a haircut?"

Levi grinned at her, holding his hair out of his face, his hazel eyes looking too much like Serra's. He looked over at me and nodded. "Hair like Uncle Dean," he said, pointing.

Covering her face and shaking her head, Grace glanced at me through her fingers. "Sam is going to come unglued," she said from behind her hands. "Seriously. He's going to shit a chicken."

"I don't care about feathers," I grunted, pulling myself into a sitting position.

Levi was still jumping in excitement as Grace led him to our master bathroom while Liberty looked on. Glory and Everett were still upstairs, hovering around Faith and Charlie as they cooed happily. I climbed the steps slowly and tripped over kids as I pulled one of the babies from the crib to change her.

Looking down at the six-month-old in front of me, I shook my head, still not knowing for sure which one was which. I turned to see where my son was, knowing that he would be able to tell just fine. Everett was still plastered to the bars of the crib, trying to reach through to touch the remaining baby. I glanced back down at her and smiled, "Hey, Charlie," I greeted. She kicked her legs and cooed, sucking on her fist. "I don't know what your momma is always complaining about. You're perfect, just like your cousins."

I changed her diaper and replaced her with Faith on the changing table, nuzzling my daughter as she reached for my face. The same tingle that I felt with Grace was there when Faith made contact with me, (reminding me of a way to tell the two apart), and I knew it was her angelic influence. Once again, I was thankful for Cas.

I turned back to the four kids and sighed, shaking my head. "You're everywhere," I sighed. They giggled and followed in my wake as I did my best to pick up Charlie again, now on the opposite hip as I carried Faith down the steps. "Wait until you see your brother," I said, talking to Charlotte as she continued to suck on her fist. "Let's go see how Auntie Grace did on his hair."

Sabina was in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water when I came back down. I smiled lightly at her, asking, "Did you sleep in the barn again?"

She shook her head and made an apologetic face. "Jody said that I could sleep downstairs," she answered quietly. "She showed it to me last night while you guys were training."

"Good," I nodded. "I put a lot of work into that apartment. At least someone is using it."

Sabina smiled, realizing that I wasn't upset. She approached me, staring at the baby girls in my arms. "Can I hold one of them?" she asked timidly. "I mean," immediately, Sabina backed away and held out her hands, thinking that she had overstepped her bounds. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry."

Chuckling, I shook my head. "Please," I rolled my eyes. "If Grace says I can trust you, I can trust you. Please take a child from me."

Sabina giggled and approached, taking Charlie from my arms. Everett stayed glued to my hip as Glory followed Sabina and her cousin across the living room to the couch.

There was wild laughter from our bedroom and then a thunder of tiny footsteps as Liberty chased a newly shorn Levi across the expanse of the house. His dark brown hair was cut a lot like mine, shaved close on the sides near his ears and longer on the top. It was so light and fluffy that it stood on end, having no length to weigh it down. He looked awesome…and a little like a cotton swab. I laughed.

"Oh, man, check you out!" I said, holding out my hand for Levi to high five as he ran by. "You look friggin' awesome."

Grace walked into the living room, still holding her hands over her mouth. "You should see the pile of hair on the bathroom floor," she said, giggling. "Your brother is going to kill me."

I was still laughing and shaking my head as I watched the kids run around, all trying to pet Levi's new haircut. "Oh, man, whatever. It'll grow back." I glanced at my wife, grinning, and winked at her. "Good news is, you could make millions cutting hair."

She pursed her lips and tilted her head, pretending to think about it. "No thanks," she replied. "We're in the auto body industry."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Dean

I started packing the green Army duffle full of weapons, protective hex bags, and maps as Grace began the morning rituals. She put plates of food in front of all four of the older kids, Eggo waffles and orange slices for everyone, and sat Faith and Charlie in high chairs next to the table to make them feel included. Throwing a handful of Cheerios on each of their trays, she turned to pour coffee and roll her hair into a bun at the base of her neck. She glanced up at me smiling and I winked as I loaded bullets into the extra clips we had our forty-fives.

She disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes to get dressed and reemerged in tight jeans, boots, a white, low cut v-tee shirt, and a blue flannel tied around her waist. I paused and smiled, admiring my wife, but she broke my concentration as she nodded towards the kitchen door. "Head's up. Sammy's coming," she said, picking up the orange slice Glory had dropped.

Chuckling, I glanced at my nephew again and grinned. "We're gonna have a good time," I muttered, preparing myself for the lecture I was about to get from my brother.

"Hey, guys," Sam greeted as he opened the door. He smiled at Sabina, who was hovering around the babies, making sure they were successful in their Cheerio eating endeavor. We all waited silently for the other shoe to drop. Sam glanced around nervously and furrowed his eyebrows. "What's going on?"

"Look, Daddy!" Levi shouted from his place at the table. I watched Sammy's reaction as everyone else turned towards Levi, who was pointing to the fluff of hair on top of his head.

The look on Sam's face was priceless. He huffed out the lung full of air he had been holding and he looked as if he had physically struck across the face. Turning towards me very slowly, his jaw dropped down. "What did you _do_ , Dean?"

I laughed then, leaning back and clapping once in the air. "Dude, your kid couldn't see through that mop!" I gasped, trying to catch my breath. "I did what was necessary…about five minutes with some clippers. He looks good, doesn't he?"  
Sam was speechless, shaking his head slowly and then walking towards Levi, holding out his hand to feel the fluff of his son's dark hair. "Oh my God, Dean," he whispered. "Why would you do this?"

Grace was watching carefully from the other side of the kitchen, sipping her coffee. I turned back to Sam and shrugged. "Whatever, man. It'll grow back." I motioned my hand towards Levi and lifted my eyebrows. "You like it, right buddy?"

Levi nodded vigorously, grinning from ear to ear. "I show Momma!" he grinned, stuffing his face with the last of the waffle.

Ignoring Sam's reaction, I plowed on relentlessly. "Okay, we're leaving today. Grace is gonna drop off Lib and the twins. You," I waited, making sure Sam was paying attention. "Sam?" He turned to me, still with a look of betrayal on his face. "You and Serra need to drop off Faith, Charlie, and Levi at the daycare and then figure out how to pick all six of them up after school. We," I motioned to Grace, Sabina and I, "are leaving after I get the shop up and running and meet with the tax guys. We're taking the Impala, so you can carry all the kids in the Tank if you need to. There are six seats all strapped in and ready to go."

Sammy nodded vaguely, still staring at his son.

"Jody and Em will be here in rotating shifts to help you." I hadn't heard any response from my brother and looked up at him. "Are you getting all of this? We're gonna be gone like a week, at least." I watched him momentarily, pressing my lips together, irritated. "Forget it, I'm just gonna wait until I talk to Serra."

"I got it, I got it," Sam murmured as he ran his hands through his still-long hair. "I just can't believe you shaved his head."

"Well," I chuckled. "Grace shaved his head. I just encouraged her."

"Oh, thank you for that," Grace's voice echoed through the kitchen sarcastically and I laughed again, returning my attention to the duffle bag in front of me.

…

Grace left to do the school drop-off run soon after that with Liberty, Glory, and Everett in the Chevelle and Sammy took both babies and Levi to their respective schools and care facilities. I was standing at the back of the Impala, organizing weapons and shifting things around enough to accommodate two females and their belongings. Granted, Sabina had very little, so really, I was making room for Grace's stuff. I glanced up at the porch where her bags waited for me and shook my head. "How you got by in the Chevelle with the two of you and Serra's boots…" I muttered, mostly to myself.

The next time I looked up, Sabina was standing on the front porch, watching me. "Hey, kiddo," I greeted. "What's up?"

She climbed down the steps slowly, approaching the Impala with her hands out. "I can't believe that this is Baby," she sighed, a smile creeping her way across her face. "I mean," Sabina glanced at me and I waited, narrowing my eyes. "She's the most beautiful car I have ever seen."

I nodded my approval, glancing back at my car. I smiled roguishly at her and commented, "I always knew I liked you, Sabina."

She wandered around the Impala, hardly daring to breathe as she made a complete circle. "Do the kids ride in here, too? There are no baby seats."

"Lib has a booster that comes in and out pretty easy now," I sighed, wiping my hands on my jeans. "And the twins are still in the baby seats…but they leave creases in the bench. I take them out when I know they're not coming. That's what the Tank is for." I pointed up the driveway at the Army green Suburban. "Grace and I drive that when we have to take all the kids somewhere." Sabina followed my gaze and nodded. "That's where the baby seats are permanent."

Sabina turned back towards me, stars shining in her brown eyes. I nodded cautiously and took a step away from her. She seemed to regain control of her thoughts and backed away too, saying, "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm good. I'm chill."

I chuckled as I walked towards the porch to grab Grace's stuff. "So what are we heading towards?" I asked, grunting slightly at the weight of Grace's duffle bag. I shook my head, using both hands to toss it into the trunk. "I mean," I continued, "we've done the research; we know it's probably hex bags and a whole lotta witches, but the town. I saw it on the map, but there doesn't seem to be much to it."

Sabina shrugged as she crossed her arms. "There's not," she sighed. "It's farms and ponds and rivers. If you want to do anything fun, you have to go to Brewer or Bangor."

I nodded, shutting the deck lid to the Impala and leaning against her as I continued. "You went to high school in Brewer?"

"Yeah," she said. "My brother is still there. He's only a freshman."

"Your brother's affected, too, then?"

Sabina stared at her feet and nodded slowly. "Mark and I were really close," she explained quietly. "Then, one day, he came home and didn't even acknowledge me." She glanced up at me, tears in her eyes and I felt a pang of guilt for taking so long to get up there. "My parents, too."

"I'm sorry, kid," I replied quietly. "Things are different, now, you know? With the shop, and the kids…" I shook my head, trying to find the words. "It's harder to just pick up and go monster hunting like we used to. Takes us a few days to get it all together."

Sabina held up her hands. "Hey," she said, shaking her head. "I never even expected that you were real. I had no hope left." She smiled wistfully. "The Winchesters gave me hope again."

Pressing my lips together, I nodded and pushed one last time on Grace's duffle bag, shoving it into the trunk as far as it would go. I lowered the deck lid and it closed, but just barely. "Okay," I sighed. "I'm gonna go meet with the tax gurus at the shop and then Grace and I should be home by about three. We'll leave whenever we get back."

Sabina took a deep breath and nodded, looking to the ground. She seemed immediately uncomfortable and if it was one thing I had learned from living with a female for the past six years or so, it was to ask, even if they didn't want to be asked.

I wiped my hands on my jeans and licked my lips, leaning onto the trunk and crossed my arms. "You okay?"

Still staring at her feet, Sabina nodded.

"There are two known psychics that live in this house," I began quietly, repeating the mantra that I had learned while being married to Grace. "I ain't one of them."

She cracked a small grin and glanced up at me, shaking her head. "I just never knew if I would ever go back…and now, with you guys so willing to help me…I don't really know what I'm going back to."

I stared at her for a long time before I decided what to say. "I've lost a lot of people in my life, Sabina," I began. "Too many to count." She was nodding, probably knowing exactly who I was referring to, depending on how far she got in those goddamn books. I shook it off, continuing. "When Grace found me, I was broken. I thought I was too far gone to be saved, but she managed it."

Her brown eyes flicked to mine, listening hard, but she stayed silent.

"The point," I sighed, letting my hands fall to my sides and shoving them in my pockets, "is that no one is past saving. You have to try. Always keep fighting, Sabina," I said quietly. "Don't you ever give up on your family."

"Thank you for this," she whispered.

I nodded and stood, headed for the house. "There's food in there. I don't want you wasting away any more than you already have." Falling into step behind me, Sabina followed me up the porch stairs and as I held the screen door open for her, I caught the smallest of grins creeping across her face. "What?" I asked, lifting my chin at the sudden change in mood.

"Nothing," she giggled, hiding her face and brushing past me, heading for the kitchen.

Rolling my eyes, I continued, "I think you keep forgetting that my wife and daughter are psychics."

Sabina turned and rolled her eyes, her face blushing fiercely. She couldn't even look at me as she said; "Dean Winchester held the door open for me."

I stared at her, my lips pressed together and I knew, just by the look on her face and the rising color in her cheeks, that my dimples were showing. I sighed and turned away from her and grabbed my keys, trying to be as dad-like and unattractive as I could be. "Eat. Clean up your mess. I'll be home by three," I replied, letting the screen door slam behind me.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Holden, Maine

"They're leaving this afternoon," the tallest of the coven said quietly, opening her eyes and coming back to her present place and time. "We finally get to see if we can control her, too."

Wrapping another hex bag and placing it in the basket nearest her, Rhiannon shook her head. "There is no way that we'll be powerful enough to control the Nephilim. If She has any hope of taking control of the Winchesters, She needs to lower Her expectations and just go after The Mark." Rhiannon glanced up at Sasha and sighed. "Ouriel and Dekar both had the right idea. Separated, they're much weaker."

Sasha spun on a heel to stare at her doe-eyed sister. "You realize that if you bring up either of those names around her, she'll kill us both without hesitating." Sasha shook her head, long blonde hair cascading down her back as she cleared up the remainder of her summoning spell. "I'm still not entirely sure how we have lasted as long as we have."

"Oh ye of little faith," Rhiannon scoffed. "She favors us. We do what she needs to be done."

Stacking the spell books behind her, Sasha put her hands on her hips. "Well," she continued, "they're coming either way. We need to be ready for a fight. Get the other women of the covens. Spread the word. We'll need the reinforcements."

Rhiannon stood and walked downstairs, sidestepping the man that was vacantly guarding the stairwell. "Come on, ladies," she called, entering the living room. "Sasha has seen the Winchesters' plan. They leave today."

Smiling around the room at the dozen beautiful and extremely powerful women in her presence, Rhiannon knew that they were finally starting to earn some respect. In the past, the covens of witches across the world had been scorned and constantly tossed to the side, the Powers That Be always seeing them as less important in the world of the supernatural. Demons and angels were naturally more gifted than even her sister, but Rhiannon knew with their new leadership, the witches were finally getting their chance to show off their abilities. Old World Magick would finally get its chance to be in the spotlight, and Sasha and Rhiannon would ensure that She would not be disappointed.

"We need to move reinforcements into place to guard the outer edges of the town. I want the Winchesters coming in, but I do not want them coming out," Rhiannon explained. "Send the Workers into the center of town, but be sure to have them play their parts. We don't need to be giving away too much all at once."

The women got to work immediately, whispering incantations to themselves with their eyes falling closed, concentrating only on their individual tasks. Sasha came down the steps quietly, almost as if she was floating; her hair so blonde that it was almost white, drifting down the steps behind her.

Turning towards her sister, Rhiannon smiled. "They have their assignments. The Contagion Spell was perfectly manufactured. We have well over two thousand."

"Two thousand," Sasha repeated, nodding her approval. "Impressive, sister. Has She been informed?"

Rhiannon nodded once, turning back towards another member of the coven as completed her murmured incantation. "I want a team of Workers guarding Her as well," she said quietly, tucking a strand of curly auburn hair behind her ear. "She might be the most powerful among us, but I still want her to know that we care about her protection."

The witch nodded once, following orders immediately and began whispering again.

Sasha moved to the stained glass window and watched the pathetic non-magical humans below, moving slowly from their homes and to various parts in the surrounding town. The evening sun shone in, streaming through the red-tinted glass, bathing her porcelain skin in a rosy glow. "Mistakes have been made," Sasha murmured, almost to herself. "We will prove we are worth Her attention. We will be the ones She depends on. We will be the most rewarded."

Rhiannon stepped to the window as well, looking out into the crowds of people. "I believe it as well, Sasha," she replied. "There will be no more mistakes. We will separate them, just as we originally planned. He will fall to his deep seeded fears; she will be lost without his power. Then we will move on the children. She says that they are the key."

Sasha's voice was hardly a whisper. "What of the Warrior?" she asked. "Surely, she will fight."

"She is one. We are many."

Nodding slowly, hoping that her sister was correct, Sasha listened to the coven chant, their voices becoming one as they echoed into the cavern of the church. This time, they were organized and most of all, patient. This time, a female mind would infiltrate Heaven and Hell.

This time, they would be victorious and Sasha and Rhiannon would finally reap their rewards.


	26. Chapter 26

::Thanks so much for all the reads and reviews so far! We're finally getting on the road to hunt us some witches. Stick with us! It's gonna be good!

Love and internetty hugs,

TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo::

...

Chapter 26

Dean

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms across my chest as I tried to concentrate on what the short dude in the suit was saying at me, but I couldn't make my mind comprehend what he was talking about. He was going on about something…keeping better records of our invoices and our monthly revenue, or some other bullshit like that. I nodded, trying to wrap this up as quickly as I could. I had shit to do.

The suit stopped talking and looked up at me, obviously finished with his lecture and I realized it was my turn to talk.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," I agreed, nodding as I made an enthusiastic face. "My kids are old enough to be in school and my wife is making a career change…she'll be heading up the books come the next tax season. Trust me, boys," I sighed, reaching for the glass doors, holding them open expectantly. "This is the last time you'll have to deal with me."

The taller of the suits reached out to shake my hand and I gladly reciprocated, knowing that this was the end of my tax appointment. Finally.

"Thank you, Mr. Winchester," he said, seemingly pleased with how I handled things. "As soon as you locate the missing months of invoices, please give us a call. For now, your tax bill will arrive in seven to ten business days."

I heard the word 'bill' and grimaced. "You got an estimate on how much this is gonna cost?" I asked, holding my breath.

Short Suit shrugged, "It won't be much more than last quarter." He glanced at his counterpart, who seemed to agree.

I tried remembering how much that was, but I had no idea. I didn't pay attention to trivial things like numbers. That was more Grace's department. "Yeah, alright," I agreed immediately, still pushing them out the door. "Thanks."

The suits turned after shaking my hand once more and I sighed as soon as they were out into the parking lot, getting into their official looking, government issue, current model, silver Chevy Impala. I watched with disgust as they backed out of the parking spot and drove away.

"Silver abomination," I muttered. Turning back to the lobby, I closed my eyes and tried to relax, letting the sounds and smells of my shop calm my nerves. "Stu!" I called, moving passed the counter and into the bays. "Gimme a wrench. I need to take something apart."

"That bad, huh?" Stu asked, rolling a small toolbox towards me.

I shook my head, throwing myself onto the creeper and letting it take me under the Challenger that we've had in the shop for the last two weeks or so. From under the car, I continued, "They just don't get it, you know?"

"The bank?"

"Yeah!" I replied. "We're grease monkeys, man. I can take apart and reassemble the guy's carburetor, but I can't balance a checkbook."

Stu leaned against the door and sighed, chuckling. "Well, maybe Grace can make a habit of coming to count for you."

"Yeah," I muttered, shaking my head as oil dripped onto my shirt. "Let's give the mother of four something else to worry about."

I could tell Stu was mulling things over before he said it out loud, but if it was one guy in this shop that I trusted for family advice, it was him. I waited patiently as I pulled myself back out from under the car to stare at him expectantly.

Stuart took a deep breath and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Grace is strong, man. She's smart as a whip and the kids are all getting to the age where they'll all be in school. Have her bring your littlest angel, set up shop in your office, and she would get this shop running smoother than the drive train of that Impala of yours." He smiled down at me, his beard hiding most of his features. "She knew you were dumb as shit when she married your ass. That's on her."

I couldn't help laughing. "Ain't that the truth," I sighed, sitting up on the creeper and leaning against the Challenger. "Alright, man," I continued, glancing up. "You're right. I've thought about it before, that it would be the easiest thing, but I didn't want to box her into a job she hated."

"She would have already left you in the dust, man," Stu laughed. "She ain't no idjit."

I could feel my gaze shift emotionlessly up towards Stuart as his all-too familiar phrase echoed through my mind. Nodding, I licked my lips and stood, extending my filthy, grease-ridden hand towards him. "Thanks, man," I said, walking back into the lobby, my decision made.

…

I pulled into the driveway as Serra was coming across the field of wheat between our houses with a grin on her face. She rerouted around the house to greet me in the gravel driveway and tilted her head. "You're my hero," she said, smiling up at me.

"Are you drunk?"

She laughed and shook her head, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "No," she replied. "I'm congratulating you on a job well done with Levi's hair."

The incident from this morning had already left my mind, but I remembered suddenly the look on Sammy's face and joined Serra's laughter. "How pissed was Sammy?" I asked, reaching for my coat in the back seat. "He barely spoke before I left for the shop."

"I think he's in shock," she giggled, flipping her hair from one side of her head to the other. "Hasn't said much." She watched as I closed the back door to the Impala and took a breath. "How do you feel about Maine?"

I could hear the shift in her tone and I glanced towards her face, trying to see what was behind the change. "It's a few witches," I ventured. "No biggie, right?"

"Yeah," Serra answered, nodding slowly, sounding unconvinced. "No biggie."

Heading towards the porch with her in my wake, I glanced back at my sister in law as we climbed the steps to the porch. "Spit it out, Luck," I grumbled.

Serendipity followed me inside and perched on the barstool at the counter, watching me open a beer. She shook her head at the one I offered her, so I took a drink. "I dunno," she began quietly. "I got a bad feeling about this one."

"You've had a bad feeling about everything since I met Grace," I replied, not leaving the sarcasm out of my voice. "This doesn't exactly mean anything."

Serra shrugged. "I don't know, Dean," she continued. "This one feels different. It's not that I don't trust Sabina…or Grace for trusting Sabina, but," Serra took a breath and shrugged again. "Like I said, I don't feel so good about this."

Nodding slowly, I knew better than to disregard the Browning Sister intuition, but at the same time, Grace hadn't voiced any concerns about heading to Maine.

If anything, she was avoiding the topic all together.

"Oh, shit," I whispered, closing my eyes and leaning my head back in shock about my own stupidity. It all came together in my head so simply then, that I seemed like a moron for not putting it together before this.

"What?" Serra asked, leaning forward.

Opening my eyes and sighing heavily, I shook my head and pressed my tongue against my teeth out of frustration. "It's why Grace is going along so willingly," I said quietly. "She fought hunting with me for months because she didn't want the kids to be without one of us if something went down." I tilted my head at Serra as I continued. "She's coming with me because she feels the same way. Maybe she thinks she can control it."

"What?" Serra asked, disbelieving. Her voice was dangerous. "She hasn't said anything to you?"

I shook my head, cursing myself for not seeing it. "No. Nothing." I stared at the ceiling, waiting for the inevitable lecture from Serra, but it didn't come. She remained perched on her barstool, locked in silent thought.

"Take me instead," Serra whispered. I turned to stare at her. "Seriously," she continued conspiratorially, almost as if she expected Grace to walk through the door any second. "If something is going to go down on this hunt, wouldn't you rather have Grace with the kids? Sammy with Levi and Charlie?" I started to shake my head, unwilling to listen to what she had already planned. "Stop shaking your head, Dean. Think about it, we do really well in the field together and if anyone goes down, it should be you and me." My eyes flicked to her gaze, still holding my tongue. "Dean. Do you really want me and Sammy raising your kids if you two get ganked?"

"Serra, stop," I finally said, setting my beer on the counter and staring at her. "We need to talk to Grace. See what she thinks about all this."

"Thinks about what?" Grace asked, closing the front door behind her.

Serra closed her eyes, shocked that she didn't hear her sister walk in. "Jesus, Grace. I'm gonna sew bells into your clothes," she lectured, turning around.

I was hesitant to make eye contact with my wife, knowing for a fact that she was already filtering through our thoughts and memories, replaying the last few minutes of conversation. Her bright blue gaze darkened as I watched, and I knew that she had already figured out what we had been talking about.

Grace let her purse fall to the floor as she walked towards the living room and began flicking through the mail that she had picked up from our PO box in town, completely ignoring me and Serra's questioning expressions. Serendipity glanced at me, making a face, and I shook my head, licking my lips. I had no idea what my wife was thinking.

"I'm thinking about how impulsive the both of you are," she answered my thought without looking up. Grace tossed the mail to the table, nothing catching her interest. She finally turned towards us and put her hands on her hips. "No," she began, talking to Serra, "I don't really want you and Sam raising the kids if we get ourselves killed, but I don't see that immediately happening. Yes," she continued, turning to stare at me. "I have had a bad feeling about Maine, but nothing I could have said to you would have changed your mind about going. Yes, I want to be able to control the situation as much as I can by going with you, and yes, I think there is something bigger than just witches in Holden."

"You about done?" I asked, lifting my eyebrows and pursing my lips flirtatiously.

Grace stared at me; mock irritation floating through her expression. "For the most part," she answered, moving towards the kitchen.

"Alright," I replied, taking a swig of my beer. "So what's the Big Bad up in the northeast?"

"Besides witches?" she asked.

"Besides witches."

Grace took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't know," she replied quietly, leaning on the counter. "But I can tell you that there is no way a coven or two of witches can control that many people without some extra help or guidance." She pressed her lips together. "There has to be something or someone else in charge."

I exchanged looks with Serra and clenched my jaw. "Oh, of course it is," I muttered. "Why wouldn't there be?"

"So does this mean you're still going with Dean?" Serra asked, completely ignoring me. "I'm still not sure about this."

"I know," Grace answered, watching her sister carefully. "But the fact is, Sere, that after training with you guys and Cas, I think I'm better prepared to handle whatever it might be. If nothing else," Grace shrugged, glancing at me, "I can run block, creating barriers between us and the bad guys." She took a breath and looked around the house. "Where is Sabina?"

"She's out in the barn," Serra answered. "Playing with Johnny."

Grace nodded quietly, continuing, "Look, I don't like that we're both going to Maine, but there are about three thousand people there that need our help and Serra, no offense, shooting them all won't solve the problem."

Serra rolled her eyes, but she nodded. "Alright, alright," Serra agreed, getting up from the stool. "You guys should get out of here before Sammy and the kids get home. I brought the babies home, but he's getting everyone else."

Grace nodded sadly and I could see the guilt of leaving our kids for a hunt wash over her entire body, weighing her down as she sighed heavily. "Yeah," she agreed, turning towards me. "I'm gonna change my clothes, then I'll be ready to go."

Nodding, I took the last swig of my beer and waited until Grace was out of earshot. "We'll call you tonight to say goodnight to the kids." Serra nodded, staring at the granite. "Emery is going to be here around five."

"We've got it, Dean," Serra whispered back. "Just… for the love of all that's holy; don't get killed." Her hazel eyes flicked towards the bedroom door. "She's been through enough shit with you to last a lifetime. Even an immortal one."

"Yeah," I agreed. "No shit."

…

"Last chance to pee," I said over the roof of my car as Sabina approached. Grace turned to watch Sabina's reaction and hesitated getting into the front seat.

"I'm good," Sabina said cautiously as she opened the door.

Grace made a face. "Seriously," she reiterated. "He's got a full tank and won't stop for at least five hours." I shook my head as I pursed my lips, agreeing with my wife.

Sabina got into the back seat and repeated herself, "It's okay, I'm good." Grace and I followed suit, getting into the car and exchanging half-excited, half-scared glances with her. "So what's our first overnight stop?"

"Overnight?" I asked, starting up the Impala, taking a minute to appreciate the rumble of her engine as she echoed off the side of the house. "We'll stay somewhere in Brewer when we get there."

The teenager in the back of my car seemed confused. "We're not stopping until we get to Maine?"

Grace shook her head, stashing her purse under the seat at her feet. "We'll stop for gas and bathroom breaks, but when Dean gets into hunt mode, he goes. There's no stopping. It's a long ride."

"What about food?" Sabina asked, worry slipping into her voice.

"She sounds like your sister," I growled at Grace, shaking my head. I glanced into the rearview mirror as I pulled out onto the highway. "Look, we'll stop for food, mostly because she makes me, and we'll switch at the wheel at hour thirteen or so."

"Oh, so you'll sleep this time?" Grace replied, sarcasm slipping into her tone.

My mouth opened in disbelief. "Hey, I sleep! We've got four friggin' kids. This is gonna feel like a vacation."

"And you're gonna let me drive your car?" Grace continued, turning physically in her seat and facing me, doubt all over her face.

I rolled my eyes dramatically, sighing heavily. "I let you drive sometimes," I grunted. I had almost forgotten that Sabina was sitting behind us and when I heard her giggle, I glanced back up into the rear view mirror. "What are you laughing at?"

"Are you guys like this all the time?" she asked, grinning stupidly.

Grace and I both shrugged in response.

Sabina continued, "You're like, my OTP." She sighed, resting back into the seat cushion as the engine roared on. "Seriously; relationship goals."

"The hell is an OTP?" I asked, looking sideways at Grace. She shrugged.

Sabina's eyes went wide, realizing that she may have been a bit too forward. "Oh, it's nothing," she tried backing out of it, shaking her head. "One True Pairing…it's nerdy and I'm sorry. I'll just…I'll just go die now."

Grace giggled next to me and I turned, staring at the gorgeous creature next to me. "What are you laughing at? She's starting to fangirl all over you, now, too."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Grace

I fell asleep sometime after eating the burger and fries from our first gas stop, somewhere outside of St. Louis, Missouri. I had managed to pull my legs up underneath my body and get cozy enough under Dean's leather jacket that unconsciousness took me quickly. I was immediately thrown into very vivid, very disturbing dreams of people fighting for control of their own bodies. It was worse than possession…at least when a demon possessed you, there was still a hint of who you were before. You could remember what it was like to be you; but the feeling that I had about the people being controlled by the power bigger than them was troubling. They seemed to have very few memories of their former selves and when one did shoot through their semi-conscious mind, the person tried to control their movements, but was immediately shut down and from what it looked like, knocked out.

Gasping awake, I sat up too quickly. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down, realizing that I was still in the car with Dean and Sabina.

Catching Dean's sideways glance in the dim moonlight, I shook him off. "It's okay," I whispered. "Just a dream."

"Vision dream or imagination dream?" he asked, his calm, deep voice soothing my nerves.

I pulled myself up, leaning against the back of the seat, still facing my husband. I watched the occasional streetlight from the highway illuminate his face and then fade to darkness again as we passed under it. He was still just as handsome as he had been when we met. I reached out slowly across the seat to hold the hand that rested on his thigh and he accepted my touch immediately, his fingers entwining with mine as he concentrated on the road ahead of him.

"I'm pretty sure I'm starting to tap into the feel of the town," I answered quietly, glancing back at Sabina. She was breathing slowly with her eyes closed. Knowing she was deep asleep, I turned back to Dean and continued. "The people are being controlled in a way that they're eventually losing who they were before. They have bits of consciousness, but when they fight for control of their body, they're knocked out or something pushes back enough that their thoughts go black." I shrugged, staring at our hands, tangled together in Dean's lap. "Holden is losing its people."

"All because of these witches?"

"And whatever else is behind all of this."

Dean sighed. "Awesome." He turned and glanced at me, lifting his eyebrows expressively before turning his attention back to the road. "I lied when I said that we were going to drive straight through."

"I know you did," I answered, smiling lightly. "We're too old for that kind of shit."

Dean chuckled quietly, nodding. "It's not worth the risk of being exhausted. We need to be on our game." He glanced back at Sabina and gestured with his head. "She asleep?"

I nodded, leaning towards him for warmth and comfort.

"What happens to her when we can't get her family back?" he asked and I held my breath, knowing what Dean had already considered, but I waited for him to speak anyway. He squeezed my hand, glancing down at me. "Because you know they're already gone."

"I know," I sighed. "She doesn't have anyone left."

"We can't just turn her loose," Dean whispered.

"I know," I repeated. "Might be nice to have another capable person around at the house."

Dean was silent in his reply and I listened to his thoughts as they wound their way in and out of this mind. He had been considering keeping Sabina with us if her family was gone for a couple of days now, but he needed confirmation from me that it was something I supported. We had only known her for about a week, but already, she felt like part of the family.

He took a deep, ragged breath and smiled sadly at me. "Another wayward orphan," he sighed. "We can never do enough, can we?"

I shook my head. "No," I replied. "Not when it comes to this. Hunting is never enough."

…

We pulled into a cheap motel just inside of Columbus, Ohio around one-thirty that night. I knew that Dean and I had the ability to keep driving, but honestly, it just wasn't worth the exhaustion that came with crossing half the country in twenty-four hours. I got out of the Impala and stretched, popping my back twice as I twisted. Dean brushed passed me, his hand dusting my hip lovingly as he headed towards the lobby to check us in. I reached under the seat for my purse and with it came the sandal I had lost years ago, after making love with Dean in the back of the car after the twins were born.

I smiled at the memory and shook my head, tossing the sandal onto the floorboard of the front seat and turning towards Sabina, who was still sleeping in the back. "Sabina," I whispered, trying to get her attention without scaring her. "Sabina, wake up, kiddo."

She didn't move, so I decided to go around to the back door and open it, but she was leaning on the armrest. If I opened the door, she would come tumbling out before she realized what was happening. I tapped on the window a couple of times and smiled at her when she finally opened her eyes and turned to stare at me.

"You awake?" I asked quietly, still grinning. She nodded, rubbing her face and glancing around, confused. She looked much younger than she was and I noted with sadness that the smile lines at the corners of her eyes would turn to deepened creases over the course of the next year or so, now that she would have to eventually cope with the destruction of her family.

I shook off the feeling and nodded towards the lobby. "I convinced him to stop so we could actually spread out a bit. Take showers, you know…be people."

Sabina smiled and sat up, opening the door and slowly standing up. She stretched as I had and took a deep breath. "Where are we?"

"Uh," I glanced at the map on my phone. "Columbus," I replied, holding the map out to her. "We've been on the road about ten hours. Not much for him," I said, gesturing to Dean just inside the glass door. "But we don't need to be tired going into this." I sighed, steadying my eyes on Sabina. "It won't be pretty."

"You think there will be a fight?"

I licked my lips. "I hope not," I answered, speaking truthfully.

Dean walked back out to the parking lot, tossing a room key at me. "Two twenty-six," he said, popping the trunk. "I'll get your bag if you carry mine."

I smiled, knowing he only had a small duffle and I bent to take it from his extended hand. "They didn't have anything on the ground floor? That's not like you to take upstairs."

He shrugged. "There's an elevator and we're not close enough to Maine to need to make a quick get away." Sabina and I exchanged looks as we followed him up the stairway towards our room. "Why the hell do you have so much in this bag?"

"I brought clothes for Sabina. There's an old pair of Luck's boots, too," I commented, glancing at the numbers on the doors as we walked passed. "Stop complaining."

Dean rolled his eyes as we came to a stop in front of room two hundred, twenty-six. "Here we are, ladies. Home, sweet home."

…

Dean fell asleep almost immediately when he got out of the shower and collapsed chest-down on the dingy bed next to me, snoring softly. Sabina seemed to be alert; unwilling to lie down all the way to attempt to get comfortable. I glanced at her and lifted my eyebrows. "What's up?" I asked her, watching her carefully.

She shook her head, staring out the crack in the curtains, but I could hear her thoughts as she allowed them to travel through her mind. She was afraid.

"Sabina, listen to me," I began, leaning forward around Dean to speak. "No matter what happens when we get there, you're not alone. We're with you and we will be for as long as you let us."

A tear dripped down her face and she wiped it away immediately, still avoiding my stare. "There's no reason you should be trusting me like you do," she whispered. "You don't know me."

I smiled sadly. "Sure I do," I began. "I can hear you and I can read your thoughts. There is not an evil bone in your body. We trust you."

Sabina returned my weak smile. This seemed to make her feel better, so she lifted the covers and sank into them as far as she felt comfortable. "Thank you, Grace," she whispered. With that, she slipped into unconsciousness as well.

I laid awake for about an hour, seeking comfort in Dean's deep breathing as he slept. I reached for his arm; my hand seeking out The Mark of Cain. Even in deep sleep, he seemed to realize what I was doing and shifted his position, pulling his arm out from under his pillow and moving it closer to my chest. I took his hand and laced my fingers through his as I rested my palm on The Mark. It soothed my mind almost at once and closing my eyes, I joined everyone else in dreamland.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Serra

Rather than trying to keep all the kids happy at our house, Sammy and I elected to keep the kids at the Big House and use it as our home base until Grace and Dean got home. Emery had come over for dinner that night and we had watched movies and fed all the kids without incident. Charlotte even seemed content in the midst of the chaos with her cousins and for once, I was calm around my baby girl.

"What a difference," I mentioned as I helped Sam clean up the meal. "Charlie has been happy the entire night."

Sam nodded happily, drying the pot I handed him. "I was just thinking about that," he said quietly. "She's so happy when she's with Faith and Everett."

Emery smiled at the both of us as we turned to glance at the babies as they played with foam blocks and the tags of their blankets on the floor in the living room. Liberty and Levi were upstairs, watching some cartoon on one of the tablets the kids had. Glory, Everett, Faith, and Charlie were all spread out in the main living space, all occupied quietly on the rug.

Tiptoeing over Faith and Charlie, Emery walked towards us. "I was thinking about that earlier," she began, nodding to the babies. "When you ended up with that Weapons Stone of yours, I got to thinking about how history always seems to repeat itself. There is always a balance." She smiled sadly. "My time with the angels taught me that."

I wiped my hands on the towel I held and tilted my head, listening carefully to the woman who had been close to a mother until the angel named Ouriel had helped fake her death. I was still bitter about her missing time in our lives, especially considering that Ouriel had ended up being the angel behind so much death and destruction over the course of two years. There were parts of me that hated her still, but overall, I was happy to have Emery home.

"What are you talking about, Em?" I asked, glancing at my daughter and niece as they played.

Emery shrugged casually. "It was just a theory, but I'm wondering if Charlie is Faith's counterpart the way you and Grace are connected."

"But I thought Everett and Faith would be the pairing that would balance things out," I commented, tossing the towel on the counter near Sam. "Everett needed Faith to keep his Mark under control. He hasn't had a breakdown since she was born. Accident free for six months, you know?"

Emery shrugged. "True," she said quietly. "But I'm not talking about Everett's dependence on Faith. I'm talking about Faith being Charlie's Ward."

"What? What ward?" I asked, glancing at Sam.

"I am convinced that after Grace was born, the angels realized that she would need protecting, or at least the ones that were on our side. You were not planned," Emery explained. "Your Daddy told that to me again and again. You, love, were a complete accident, but completely necessary. You are a Warrior of Heaven, charged with protecting Grace."

"I was born to be Grace's bodyguard?" The doubt seeped through my voice without realizing that I doubted Emery at all. "That seems like a little bit of a stretch."

"You were born to do what was necessary to defend your family. You are the only one that is able to control the Weapons Stone," Emery reminded me. "Grace can't use it and she's half angel. It burns Dean on contact and Sam can't do anything with it either…but I am willing to bet that one or both of your kids will be able to."

I listened quietly as Emery spoke, knowing deep in my belly that she was probably right, considering I had some of the same thoughts before. "Okay, so what does that have to do with Charlie being around Faith?"

"When you were a baby, not much bigger than Charlie, you would carry on like a fool when your sister was away from you," Emery sighed, leaning back against the counter and smiling. "You would scream for hours on end until your mother would just give up and put you in bed with Grace. Being around your sister would calm you almost instantly…you would curl into her body and fall right to sleep."

Immediately, I pictured crawling into bed with Grace over and over as we grew up together and well into adulthood. Whenever something upset me or when I was tense or stressed out, my first impulse was to seek out my sister and get as close to her as possible. It was a habit that I had developed and I realized that Emery made perfect sense.

I glanced up at her and tilted my head. "I did that even when I was baby?"

"Especially when you were a baby. Grace hardly slept by herself before you could walk."

Sam and I exchanged a look and I furrowed my eyebrows. "It makes sense," I muttered to him. He nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. I turned back towards Emery and raised my eyebrows. "So Charlie is to Faith as I am to Grace?"

"I have a feeling, but it probably means that Everett is in there somewhere too," Emery answered, glancing back at the girls. Faith had rolled to her back and was sucking on her toes as Charlie stared, open mouthed, at the soft, mirrored cube in front of her, batting at it with her chubby fist occasionally. "I would bet a hundred bucks that your girl is a Warrior of Heaven."

I turned to stare at up at Sam and sighed. "Shit," I whispered. "So what's Levi?"

Emery pressed her lips together and shrugged. "He seems pretty attached to Libby and Glory, doesn't he?"

"What, he's one too?" I whined, covering my face with my hands. "Both of them are bodyguards? Why didn't he cry the way Charlie does when he's apart from the older girls?"

Sam spoke for the first time, his quiet voice questioning, "Well, how often was he really away from them?" he asked. "They were together all the time when he was a baby because Grace was here and she watched both he and Lib with the twins when you went back to work." He shrugged. "He really never had a chance to be upset to be away from her."

Sammy's explanation made perfect sense and I closed my eyes as I nodded. "Yeah," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, that works." I looked back at Emery and asked, sighing, "Anything else we should know about the kids?"

Emery chuckled and shook her head. "Time will continue to reveal all of the Winchester secrets, I'm sure."

…

We bathed the kids in shifts, getting them to bed by eight after talking to my sister and Dean on the phone to say goodnight. Exhausted, we finally collapsed onto the couch to stare at the TV at eight-fifteen. "Is it too early to go to bed?" I asked, leaning my head on Sam's shoulder. "We're gonna have to do this all over again tomorrow."

He yawned widely. "I have no problem going to bed now," he mumbled, laying his head back to rest on the cushion of the couch. "I'm exhausted."

"That settles it," I said, patting his knee and then using it to push myself up to a standing position. "You're staying, right?" I asked Emery as I walked across the living room, tripping twice on the blankets that Faith and Charlie had been laying on. "I mean, you're hanging out as a back up?"

Emery nodded, smiling lightly at the paranoia that sat on the edge of my voice. I still didn't know if we would be able to handle all six kids at once. I wasn't the half-angel. This was my sister's circus.

"I've got my stuff downstairs in the apartment," Emery answered. "When did Grace get the other bed down there?"

"How many beds are down there?" I asked, copying Sam's yawn.

"Two twins, now."

I nodded my approval. "Maybe she got another one so you and Jody wouldn't have to fight over who took the bed when you are both here."

Em chuckled and tilted her head. "That was nice of her."

"She's a thoughtful one. 'Night, Em," I muttered, waving over my shoulder and stumbling into bed. Sammy stripped and got into the shower, rinsing off quickly, and then joining me in Grace and Dean's king-sized bed.

He was silent long enough that I thought he had drifted off to sleep and I was about to fall off to dreamland, but when I heard him take a breath, I knew we weren't done talking about the kids.

"Two Warriors of Heaven, huh?" he asked, rolling his head to face me in the darkness.

"Warriors of Fucking Heaven," I corrected, yawning again. "Apparently, those genes are dominant."

Sammy sighed heavily and rubbed his face, his frustration with the supernatural aspect of our family tree pushing its way to his exterior. "We just can't escape it," he whispered. "We're always going to be dragged back into the mix."

I sighed heavily and nodded. "I'm sorry," I replied. "I'd like to say that it's all my fault, but I would be lying."

"How so? I blame you completely, Warrior of Heaven."

"Warrior of Fucking Heaven," I repeated. "And I think you've forgotten that you were supposed to be someone's vessel. Someone very specific."

"But we won that battle. He's gone."

"Doesn't mean that you weren't chosen for something," I replied heavily. "It just means that you and I are a perfect combo…complementary to each other, just like Grace and Dean."

Sammy sighed as he rolled towards me in the dark, laying his arm over my waist, pulling me close. "I always wondered if we were together because of some higher force or power that we didn't understand yet. It always worked…we were too easy."

I sighed and rubbed my face. "I know," I whined. "When Grace started dreaming about Dean, I knew. I knew it was something that was big. My senses have been on overload for like, six years straight." I turned to face Sammy and shrugged into my pillow. "I just never realized how big this would all be."

Changing subjects, Sammy smiled as he continued, "Did you really sleep with Grace when you were growing up?" He smiled, "The big, bad Warrior of Fucking Heaven didn't have the 'nads to sleep by herself?"

Reaching out to smack Sammy's shoulder I shook my head as I giggled. "I always just felt better when I was with her. She's always been soothing to me." I closed my eyes, feeling the pull of unconsciousness. "The first thing I did after I got home when I ran away was climb into bed with her. We had just lost Dad and Emery…or at least we thought we had. It was almost morning when I had gotten home…I changed my clothes, walked into her room, and climbed into bed. I knew she was awake, but it didn't matter. She stayed in bed until I woke up."

Sam was quietly listening to me, stroking my hair occasionally. "Do you ever want to climb into bed with her and Dean?" he asked, still quietly teasing me.

"One of these days," I yawned again. "One of these days, Dean is going to wake up with me in the middle, cuddling shamelessly with my sister."

Laughing quietly, Sam wrapped his other arm around me, whispering, "I have no doubt." Finally, we each took a heavy breath and finally drifted off to sleep.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Grace

I awoke with a gasp as the sun was rising. I sat up, taking a deep, calming breath, and tried to distinguish what had forced me awake this early in the morning, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Dean was lying next to me, sprawled out in his typical face-down position, but he was awake and facing me, watching me silently.

When we finally made eye contact, he took a soft breath and spoke quietly. "You've been muttering in your sleep for the past ten minutes or so. What were you dreaming about?"

Closing my eyes, I tried to picture the last thing I had seen, but it was already gone. "I have no idea," I whispered. "It almost feels like it wasn't mine."

Dean remained silent as he rolled over and stretched, the bottom seam of his shirt lifting enough to see the light treasure trail of hair on his muscled stomach. I smiled, pushing the dream from my mind and curled into him, inhaling his scent. He closed his eyes as he wrapped his arm around me and sighed. "We need to get back on the road," he whispered.

Nodding into his chest, I agreed, but I was unwilling to move.

Sabina breathed deeply as she continued to sleep on the other side of the room. I glanced over to see that she was curled into a tiny ball on the far side of the mattress, almost up against the wall. Even though she was eighteen, she still looked like a child, and my heart ached for her.

"Alright," I said; my protective need to get up and moving was renewed. "We've got work to do."

I took the first shower, washing my hair with bad motel shampoo and immediately regretted my allowance of Dean talking me out of bringing my own. By the time I got out, my hair was stiff and dry and it was difficult for me to even get it into a bun.

The steam followed me out into the room as I held the towel around me to fetch clothes out of the duffle that sat on the edge of my and Dean's bed. Sabina was awake, rifling through the clothes I packed for her. She pulled out an old blue tee shirt that I had found from my youth and smiled, looking up at me. "Thank you for the clothes," she whispered.

I nodded and smiled. "Of course, Sabina. We can't have you walking around naked. What would people say?" She laughed as I pulled out my own clothes, glancing at Dean, who was on the phone. I tuned in telepathically, listening momentarily and could hear Sam talking calmly from the other end, so I knew it was just a morning check-in. I tugged my underwear and jeans on under the towel I wore and as I was pulling on a Triumph motorcycles tee, I froze, hearing my oldest daughter's voice in my head.

" _Momma,"_ Libby whispered. " _I saw her again."_

Allowing the towel to drop to the floor, I finished pulling on the shirt and tilted my head, listening carefully. This was the first time I had ever heard Liberty's voice in my head without her touch. I took a deep, calming breath and answered, " _The same woman with red hair?"_

 _"_ _Yes."_

My eyes flicked to Dean, seeing that he was still on the phone and unaware of the conversation I was having with our daughter. _"What happened in this one?"_ I asked.

Lib was silent for a few seconds and I turned, staring wide-eyed at Dean. He was turned as he noticed my movements, watching me carefully. His face asked the question that he didn't need to voice: "What's wrong?"

Ignoring him momentarily, I closed my eyes, reaching out to our daughter and was about to ask again, " _Lib?"_

Suddenly, a flow of images began filtering through my mind's eye, flickering through disjointed scenes of a petite woman with red, fiery hair, and black leather motorcycle boots. She stood high above the scene, watching the Dean from a window of a large, brick building. He was doubled over and bleeding, using the building to support his weight as blood dripped from a wound on his back.

There were silent explosions in the background; flashes of light illuminated the scene and off to the side, I caught sight of the silhouette of wings, emblazoned across the side of another large building. Assuming it was Castiel, I glanced around the scene, looking for myself, but then I realized that the wings were mine. I was taken aback at their expanse…I had never seen them myself and it was shocking to witness. No wonder Dean had stared in awe the first time he saw them.

The scene ended back at our own house, filled with black smoke and dust, looking like a war zone. Serra was standing in the middle of the living room with both of her guns drawn; aiming at something I wasn't able to see. She was tossed away from the middle of the room by an unseen entity, slamming against the wall of kitchen, knocked unconscious as she hit the floor.

The motel room came back into focus and I suddenly realized how hard I was breathing. I was shaking and sweaty from the adrenaline rush I usually felt after having a vision, but for the first time, this had been a vision that did not belong to me.

Standing four inches from my face, Dean was staring at me as he waited for me to come back. He still held the phone to his face and when his green eyes came into focus, he spoke into the phone. "She's back, breathing hard," Dean explained to Sam over the phone. To me, he asked, "Gracie, are you okay? What did you see?"

He backed away slowly, letting me catch my breath, but I was in control much faster than I had been in the past. Typically, a vision of that magnitude would render me mute for a good five minutes or so. "Lib," I gasped. "Liberty sent me a vision."

"She _what_?" Dean turned back towards the phone and shouted at Sam, "Go check on Lib, right now."

I was shaking my head, "No, she's okay. She's awake. She's okay." I sat down on the edge of the bed behind me, still breathing harder than I had been. "She talked about it about a week ago and I didn't really think much of it, but now I'm starting to wonder if they're visions, but she's so young."

Dean was listening to me and Sam as we spoke at the same time. He nodded at me, acknowledging that he had heard me, but continued to listen to my brother-in-law. "When?" he finally asked, Sam taking a break from his explanation. I glanced up at him and raised my eyebrows, questioning. "She had a nightmare this morning," Dean whispered, holding the phone away from his face. "Sammy says that Faith was the one that cried early this morning for like, the first time in her life, and by the time they got up there, Ev and Glory were in the room with Lib and Levi, wide eyed and protective. Wouldn't let them in." He turned the phone back to Sam and said, "Well, keep them home if you want, but keep an eye on Lib. If she's starting to have visions when she's awake, it's gonna freak her out." Dean licked his lips, disappointment washing through the features. "We haven't prepped her that it was a possibility."

I silently chastised myself for not preparing my own daughter about the fact that she could start having visions. I never imagined that they would begin so soon…my first vision wasn't until I was about fourteen and Liberty was only six…but as I thought about my past, I realized that it simply wasn't true. I began seeing _other_ people's thoughts at fourteen. Licking my lips and shaking my head, I realized that my visions began way before that. I had simply pushed the memories away, seeking comfort in Serra's presence when she found her way into my bed. Whenever I had a vision, I remembered my little sister being there, absorbing the impact of my terror. She had the ability to calm me in a way that no one else did.

Taking a deep breath, I held out my hand for the phone. Dean nodded and said, "Sammy, Grace wants to talk to you." He handed it over and crossing his arms over his chest, he waited patiently.

"Sam, let me talk to Liberty, please?" I asked.

"Of course," he said, and there was a shuffle as Lib came to the phone.

"Momma?" her voice was still so small, so innocent. I closed my eyes and licked my lips again; trying to keep my voice steady once I began speaking.

"Hi baby," I greeted. "When did you see that? Were you awake or asleep?"

"Awake," she answered simply. She sounded breathless.

I nodded, closing my eyes. "Okay, kiddo," I said, leaning forward and holding my head with my other hand as I gripped the phone. "It's okay. I have them sometimes, too. I should have warned you that it might happen to you, but I didn't realize that you're such a big girl already. You're growing up too fast." She was silent as I continued. "When I started to have visions, I was scared. I didn't understand them because no one else had them before in my family. The good thing, though, is that Auntie Lucky always made me feel better, just by touching me. She slept in my bed with me when I was your age and just her being there made me feel whole again." I could see Lib nod her head in my mind's eye, so I continued. "You need to stay with your brother and sisters. They'll make you feel better almost right away."

I closed my eyes, knowing the fear I felt when I wasn't able to speak immediately following one of my visions and realized that it was probably the reason that Lib reached out to me telepathically. She was locked in her own mind. "It's okay that you can't speak after you see something, too. It comes back," I continued, trying to be as soothing as I could be. "Glory, Everett, and Faith can help with that, too."

For the first time, Liberty took a breath and spoke, arguing with me. "They didn't help," she explained, her tiny voice still full of fear. "They protected me, but…" she faded away and I tried to wait patiently.

"But what, baby?"

"Levi helped. He made me feel warm again," she said.

My eyes automatically flicked to Dean's gaze, finally putting it all together. Glory, Everett, and Faith were just exact duplicates of Dean and I. Serra is the Warrior of Heaven…of course her son would be my daughter's counterpart. "I'm glad Levi helped, kiddo. Seems like he'll be your go-to."

"This is gonna happen again?" Liberty asked, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll see her again?"

I closed my eyes and nodded silently. "I'm sorry, baby. It happened to me a lot too. Every couple of months I would see something new."

"So maybe I won't see her? Maybe I'll see something different. I don't like her."

"Maybe," I replied, shrugging. "But the vision you saw might not be complete. You might have to see her another few times for it to be whole. If you feel the pull when you're at school, close your eyes and put your head down. It's the easiest way to cope and you won't draw too much attention to yourself."

"Why is this happening?" Lib asked; her voice close to tears. "I hate it."

I sighed heavily. "I know, I do too," I answered. "We're special, kiddo. We've got a lot in common with Uncle Cas and Lucia." I looked up at Dean as he held out his hand for the phone, wiggling his fingers. "Here, baby. Daddy wants to talk to you."

Taking the phone, Dean sighed and closed his eyes. "Hey, Meatloaf," he began quietly. "I know it sucks, but you're safe with Sam and Serra. You're safe in our house with your brother and sisters." He turned away from me and lowered his voice even more. "You're safe with Lee and Charlie. And as soon as I get home, I will carry you around on my hip for as long as it takes you to forgive me for leaving you."

I closed my eyes, holding my face in my hands as I listened to my husband beg our daughter's forgiveness.

Dean was still talking quietly to Liberty with his eyes closed, gesturing to the air, "You got that, baby girl? As long as it takes: no school, no homework, no chores. Just me carrying you around like the goddess you are."

…

We finally got on the road again about an hour later and as we drove, we were silent, each immersed in our own thoughts. The problem was, though, as always, that I had the curse of everyone else's thoughts as well. It was exhausting. Dean was obsessing about how there was absolutely nothing he could do to shield our kids from their genetic codes. Once again, I was consumed with gratitude that Everett wasn't an emotional wreck anymore. Faith had definitely held up her end of the bargain.

Sabina was simply in awe of everything we did. The more she found out about us, the more she wanted to be around our family and learn everything there was to learn about the hunting world. The closer we got to Holden, Maine, the further she wanted to be from it.

I turned my body to face her as she sat in the back seat, the rumble of the Impala's engine making it hard to be heard. "Sabina, please let me tell you something about this world before you romanticize it even more than you already have," I began, leaning on the back of the seat. "We," I continued, gesturing between Dean and myself, "we are a rarity. Hunters that have seen and done as much as we have don't normally live this long. Technically, he hasn't…he's died hundreds of times. He's been a demon. Twice."

Dean nodded next to me, glancing back at us.

"Hunters die. They don't have normal families…they really shouldn't have kids." I sighed and closed my eyes. "Lib and the twins were accidents," I shrugged, looking sideways at Dean. "If they hadn't shown up on their own, I'm not sure if we would have ever had kids, knowing what we know now."

My husband's silence confirmed what I explained, considering the pain we felt on a pretty constant basis, worrying about our children's safety. The roar of the Impala filled the silence for a few seconds as we mulled things over.

Dean took a breath finally, adding, "Don't get her wrong," he said, taking over. "We love the kids more than life itself, but if I could have stopped the cycle, I might have. Hunters having kids is not usually a good idea." He shrugged. "Plus, I seem to have passed a curse onto our son, not to mention that he's got angel blood, too and our daughters are all human/angel hybrids. It's an odd and pretty powerful Molotov Cocktail of genetics."

Sabina sighed sadly from the back seat. "It bums me kinda hard that you didn't plan the kids," she said. "I guess I can't really hope that hunters would be romantic."

"Hey," Dean defended himself. "I'm plenty romantic, and damn fertile." I laughed and shook my head. He smiled roguishly at me, winking as he drove. "I know. Drives you wild."

Sabina giggled in the backseat, covering her mouth with her hands, blushing.

"Look," I said, continuing with a smile on my face, but trying to remain serious. "My point is that don't think that because you spend a week with us that all of the sudden you're going to become a big, bad hunter." I shook my head. "Hunting is not glamorous. It's ugly and terrifying. It's painful. You lose your people."

She nodded slowly. "That's just it, though," she began. "I don't have anyone left."

Dean pressed his lips together and I could hear the thoughts filter through his head. " _You know she's the perfect hunter trifecta,"_ he thought, _"orphaned, resourceful, and nomadic."_ He glanced at me, knowing I was listening. "Don't tell me that's not true."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Don't give up on them just yet. We haven't seen what we need to see."

About twenty minutes passed in relative silence. We simply listened to the road.

I noticed Sabina leaning towards me from the back seat and when she got within a breath's distance, she whispered, "I have to pee."

I chuckled, knowing that a bathroom stop wasn't on the docket for another two hours at least, but nodded to her request. I turned towards my husband and smiled sheepishly. "I've gotta pee, babe."

"What?" Dean said, glancing at the watch on his wrist. "Dude, we've only been on the road three hours." He looked over at me and made a face, his dimples showing in the most adorable way. "You can't wait 'til Harrisburg? That's lunch."

"Dean, that's another two hours."

He simply stared at me in response, his jade green eyes showing mock irritation.

I clicked my tongue and sighed dramatically, letting myself fall to the seat back and laying my hand across my forehead. "You're telling me that you won't pull into a Starbucks or something so I can use the bathroom?" I slowly let my other hand creep across the bench seat towards his thigh. "You're going to make your adoring wife wait another two hours?"

As soon as my hand made contact with his thigh, he took a deep breath in through his nose and licked his lips. "You're not playing nice," he growled under his breath, holding a smile.

I reached farther along the inseam of his jeans and tugged at a random thread that had come loose. Dean's entire body was stiffer, more aware of my touch, and he struggled to stay in control as I let my fingers trail up the seam of his pants. "Not playing nice?" I repeated, leaning closer to his ear. "I thought this _was_ playing nice."

For a moment, Dean played the game right back as he leaned into my touch, reaching for my hand. "You're a damn tease," he whispered. "And I don't think it's you that has to pee." He glanced at me and rolled his eyes, shaking his head as his dimpled threatened to show. He picked my hand up from his thigh and dropped it back in my own lap. "Gold star for effort, though."

"Stop and let her pee, Dean," I said, my tone changing completely.

He rolled his eyes and nodded, chuckling under his breath. "Fine," he replied, glancing in the rear view mirror and referring to Sabina. "I'll let it go because this one just played her heart out to get her way." Dean stared at me and shook his head. "Three hours in. Shameful."

I giggled and looked back at Sabina and winked.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Sabina

Traveling with Dean and Grace Winchester was like having a family again. They joked and talked throughout the drive and tried their best to put my mind at ease about going home. I had no clue what we would find when we got back to Holden, but I knew either way, I would be with people that would care for me.

Being with the Winchesters is like having a dream come true. I have been obsessed about Sam and Dean since I started reading the _Supernatural_ books, but I never imagined that they were real people. Now, here I am sitting in the backseat of the 1967 Chevy Impala that Dean Winchester prizes so highly, talking to him and his wife like it's an every day, usual thing. I don't think I've recovered from finding out they're real, yet.

It seems like we drove forever, stopping only once or twice for food and gas. I fell asleep somewhere along the way as the Appalachian Mountains got smaller and the trees got greener.

Soon, it was beginning to get dark again and I opened my eyes to Grace pulling on Dean Winchester's leather jacket as she got out of the car and stretched. I sighed inwardly, jealous to the bone of her relationship with him, but knowing how happy they were, well. It was all so romantic.

"Where are we?" I asked, opening the door and stepping out into the chilly April evening, rubbing my arms against the chill of the evening air.

Grace glanced down at her phone as she closed the door, slinging her brown leather purse across her chest and over her shoulders. "Haverhill, Massachusetts," she replied. "Dinner time and then we'll get to Holden at about eleven thirty or so tonight."

I nodded, watching Dean Winchester walk towards Grace and automatically interlace his fingers with hers as he took her hand. I sighed inwardly, knowing how much Dean Winchester had been through in his life and so happy that he had found his someone, even if she was half-angel. Couldn't just be a regular girl for Dean Winchester, no. She had to be half-angel.

The corners of Grace's lips tucked into a smile and I was confused again. There were times that I could swear she was reading my mind.

As Dean Winchester held the door open for the both of us, she smiled at me and nodded. "I am," she whispered, breezing past me and standing in the lobby of the fast food restaurant.

I followed her towards the booth she chose and realized that she had whispered a comment directly relating to what I had just been thinking. "Wait, what?" I asked, glancing up at her. "You can hear me _think?"_

Grace stared at me, her blue eyes penetrating nearly to my soul. She nodded happily. "Kinda comes with the territory, kiddo," she answered, pointing at the sandwich combination on the menu and glancing up at her husband. Dean Winchester nodded and looked down at me expectantly. When I didn't respond immediately, Grace spoke again. "He wants to know what you want," she explained patiently, nodding at Dean Winchester.

"Oh!" I answered and automatically, I could feel the redness come to my cheeks. I was constantly embarrassed around the two of them. They seemed to have such a fluid and constant communication that I felt like I was left out of the loop all the time.

Searching for a chicken sandwich, I pointed and smiled sheepishly. "The chicken," I answered. "With a biscuit and coleslaw, please." Dean Winchester nodded once and headed towards the counter.

As I watched him walk away, I sighed to myself again. His shoulders were so broad and his arms looked so strong. When he crossed them in front of his chest, you could see the ropes of muscle laced through his forearms and up into his bicep. His jeans fit in all the right ways, too, hanging around his bowlegs and hugging his ass and hips…

Grace was watching me with interest and smiling gently as I realized that I had been narrating her husband's features to myself. I gasped and covered my mouth, my eyes about popping out of my face. "Oh my God," I whispered. "I'm sorry. Please," I shut my eyes and turned away from her as I replayed what I had thought. "Please, I'm…" The heat in my cheeks was unbearable. "I'm sorry, Grace. I have hard time controlling myself."

She laughed, shaking her head. "It's okay," she said, leaning across the table. "I'm kind of used to it. He gets a lot of stares, well. We get a lot of stares."

My thoughts immediately took off on their own again, _"Well, yeah,"_ I agreed in my head. _"You're a gorgeous, blonde half-angel that's fucking a devilishly handsome, broad-shouldered, bow-legged man that drives a '67 Impala on a routine basis,"_ I couldn't stop myself from answering in my head. I gasped and covered my mouth again. "Jesus. I need to stop."

Grace was laughing and leaned back in her seat, letting her hair out of the ponytail she had worn since this morning. The golden blonde waves cascaded down her back and she shook it out, trying to get it to part on the side. "Really, it's okay. You shouldn't have to hide your thoughts," Grace answered begrudgingly as she sighed. "They're your thoughts…about my husband."

There was no stopping the thought that leapt out of my mind. " _Is he as good in bed as I imagine he is?"_

Grace smiled as if she held a lucrative secret, tilting her head to one side and braiding her waist-long hair. "Better," she answered, lifting her eyebrows. "How do you think we _accidentally_ had three kids?"

I couldn't help licking my lips and allowing my eyes to find Dean Winchester's ass again. "Oh, wow," I whispered. Grace giggled again and nodded.

A few minutes later, we were deep in conversation about my ex, Parker, and how we had never actually slept together. It still worried me that it was one of the reasons we broke up.

"Not sleeping with a guy shouldn't be the reason he breaks up with you," Grace was saying as she leaned on her hand. "Trust me, if he's into you, he'll wait." She glanced up as Dean Winchester approached with a tray of food and smiled. "Thanks, babe," she murmured and he nodded in response. Turning back to me, Grace continued. "Besides, you were in high school. You're too young anyway."

I was slightly offended that Grace would say something like that to me. She didn't know what I was like in high school. She didn't understand the love that Parker and I had shared.

Before I knew it, Grace was shaking her head and laughing as she took a bite of her chicken sandwich and I closed my eyes, realizing that she had heard everything I had just thought. Nothing was sacred around Grace Winchester.

"You're right," she answered my thought quietly. "Nothing is sacred. I hear more than I should, all the time." I waited for her to continue as Dean Winchester took a bite of his cheeseburger. His jade eyes flicked to mine and I blushed, breaking eye contact immediately. He looked confused, but glanced at Grace and she returned his thought with a roll of her eyes. Obviously, they were communicating telepathically again.

With his mouth full, Dean Winchester smiled and said, "Whatever you think you know about life? Grace has done it, experienced it. If you think you're going to tell her that she doesn't know you? She doesn't understand you?" He paused and swallowed his bite. "You're wrong, kid. She gets you perfectly. She knows because she's been there." He stared at his burger momentarily, inhaling the scent of the steam rising from it. Smiling, he took another bite and then pointed at me with it. "You have no idea about what _she_ has been through."

I was just schooled by Dean Winchester. I was so turned on.

"The other thing is that if you're going to be around us all the time, you have got to get the crush under control," Grace said, taking a fry from her plate and munching on it. "He's hot, I get it, but he's mine. Mentally undressing him every twelve minutes is getting exhausting." She picked up her sandwich and ignored the look Dean Winchester was giving her, his eyebrows up so high that they moved his hairline. "Stop calling him Dean Winchester, too. Even if you're not saying it out loud, I can hear you every time you say it. It's driving me crazy."

Dean Winchest— Dean stared at me with his eyebrows raised expectantly. "Sorry," I muttered, taking the biscuit from my plate and nibbling on it. "This is a big deal, you know. It's like walking around with Han Solo. You just call him by both names."

Grace stared at Dean, completely deadpan, and shook her head slowly. "Don't," she said simply as he opened his mouth to speak. She turned to me and sighed heavily. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"What?" I asked, completely at a loss.

"You just called him Han Solo," she sighed, picking up her sandwich. "He's going to be high on that for days."

I giggled and shrugged. "Sorry," I repeated.

…

We were back in the Impala about twenty minutes later, having been fed and watered, even with time for a bathroom break while Dean went to get gas on the corner. Grace and I crossed the street to meet him at the gas station a few minutes later and as we approached, he reached for Grace again, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close.

It's not that I felt awkward…they weren't obnoxious about their PDA; it was just interesting to me that they touched so often. I figured that it was just because they were so romantic and in love, but Grace turned to me, smiling sadly.

"It's not that," she explained quietly. "I mean, we are, but," Dean turned towards her as he listened, not knowing yet what she was referring to. She took a breath and pulled his sleeve up, gesturing to his forearm. "This is The Mark of Cain," she began. "It's a curse that, left unchecked, would eventually push him into being a Knight of Hell…a demon." I gasped slightly, listening to Grace silently. She continued, "Because I am Nephilim, I can absorb the power of the Mark and use it for my own benefit. It's one of the reasons I figured out that I was half and half. I can use the power he gives me through the Mark as if I am a full angel."

Moving closer towards Dean, I stared at the raised red, scar-like mark on his forearm. Nodding, I glanced up at Grace. "How did it get there?"

Dean pulled the gas nozzle from the Impala and put it back at the pump, closing the tiny gas door on the trunk, hidden by the license plate. "I asked Cain, its original owner, to give it to me. It's a long story," he growled, his voice deeper than it had been before. "It was the only thing we could think of that was more powerful than Abaddon."

I had no idea who Abaddon was, so I figured that this all happened after the _Supernatural_ books ended. I nodded anyway, but then made a face. "So how does this connect to you touching all the time?"

We all got back into the car and Grace leaned over the front seat to continue the story. "The more we touch, the better he feels and the more power I have. He gets a little pissy if I don't keep it in check."

"What did you do before you met?" I asked, starry eyed.

Grace glanced at Dean and nodded. "He was violent, angry. He was quicker to kill and a lot of the time, he went out, looking for a fight. I found him one night in a bar, sweaty and miserable, drunk off his ass." She smiled at the memory as the engine roared on, gaining speed and getting back on the highway. She turned towards her husband and smiled. "I could feel the heat through your jeans."

"That wasn't just The Mark," Dean growled, the corner of his lips turning into a mischievous grin. Grace leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, letting him wrap his fingers through hers once again.

 _"_ _Oh, the dimples,"_ I thought, but I closed my eyes, controlling myself for Grace's benefit. She smiled at me.

"Anyway, we figured out pretty quickly that we were drawn to each other like magnets," she sighed. "He couldn't keep his hands off me."

"Oh, wait a minute," Dean argued. "I couldn't keep _my_ hands off _you_? What about _you_ , there, Half and Half?"

"What _about_ me?" she asked, turning towards him in the seat and crossing her arms. "You would have done me right there in the parking lot."

"I think it might be the other way around," Dean answered, putting both hands on the wheel and tilting his head towards his wife. He waggled his eyebrows as she shook her head and smiled sheepishly. "See? You can't deny it."

"You're delusional," Grace answered, her story momentarily forgotten. She turned and faced forward once more and ran her fingers through her long, golden blonde hair.

I smiled to myself, watching them silently. Within a matter of seconds, the fake argument already forgotten, Dean's arm snaked up to the top of the front seat and his fingers toyed with the waves of her hair, finding the way through the heavy curtain, and caressing the skin of her neck. She leaned into his touch immediately, sighing contentedly.

Shaking my head, I laughed to myself, saying, "You two are unreal. Do you ever fight? Like actually no-holds-barred fight?"

Dean and Grace exchanged a glance that I didn't understand, but Dean seemed to hug her closer. Grace's voice came over the back of the seat, just barely above the roar of the engine. "Everyone has their fights, Sabina."

I nodded to myself, knowing that I hit some sort of nerve. I apologized internally but Grace didn't acknowledge me. She leaned her head on Dean's shoulder as we continued into the night.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Dean

We were getting close and I was falling back into my old hunting habits. I could feel the tension spread throughout my neck and shoulders and I knew Grace was listening when she heard me think about the fact that I was nervous.

It was rare for anything to catch me off guard, especially these days when my wife was able to predict the future. This though…heading into a town where every one of its population was being controlled by something didn't bode well for my calm.

I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw that Sabina was asleep again, so I took a deep breath and glanced at Grace saying, "We're about twenty minutes out, I think."

She nodded, already knowing what I was going to say. "I know," she whispered. She took a deep breath, reigning in her emotions. "It makes me nervous that you're nervous."

I couldn't think of anything clever to say, so I kept my trap shut. Instead, my hand found hers, just like normal, and we silently listened to Baby as she brought us closer and closer to that little blue dot on the map.

As the lights of Bangor, Maine began to shine over the cloudy horizon, I glanced at my wife and took a deep breath. I replayed the phone call we shared with our kids hours before and licked my lips, knowing full well this was about as dangerous as a situation could get for us.

"How much longer are you going to be gone?" Liberty had asked as we wrapped up the call.

Grace hadn't looked at me; her long eyelashes hiding her blue gaze. "I don't know baby," she had said. "Probably about a week or so."

I chimed in, leaning towards the speaker, "Aren't you having fun with Uncle Sammy?"

I could almost picture Lib shrug as she thought of a reply. "Yeah, I guess. Auntie Lucky isn't doing so well with all of us. She says that she's outnumbered and it makes her jumpy."

"Well, you're the oldest," I reminded her, talking loud enough so I could be heard over Baby. "Help her out a bit so she doesn't take it out on Uncle Sam."

Liberty had laughed then, handing the phone back to Sammy and he sighed. "She's okay," he explained. "I think she's just nervous about going to sleep."

Grace and I had stared at each other then and I knew that she had been right, just like always: we should never have come hunting together. One of us should be with them, especially while Lib was going through her first set of real visions. Grace had nodded, agreeing with my thoughts, but she was careful not to rub it in.

"It's okay, Sam," she said, speaking closer to the phone. "If it's okay with you, let her sleep in the bed with you, or put Levi in the bed with her. I'm pretty sure he'll be able to take her fear, make it easier to deal with." She sighed, the weariness getting to her. "I'm sorry you have to deal with her first set of visions, Sam."

Clicking his tongue, Sam answered immediately, "Grace, stop. We signed up for this when we became a family." Sam paused as he considered his next thoughts. "I'm just glad we know what is happening to her. I can't imagine you having to do this alone when you were a kid."

I reached out to touch my wife's hand as I listened to my brother. "Sammy," I said, taking over the conversation. "Just keep her distracted while we're gone and she'll be alright. I brought home an alternator and a clutch box that she can take apart if she wants. My tools and stuff are out in the barn."

I came out of the memory and glanced again at Grace. She had taken on that unnatural stillness that she did when she was listening to things I couldn't hear. "What do you hear, gorgeous?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper, hoping that I didn't startle her.

"Nothing," she replied, still staring silently out the windshield. "That's what worries me."

…

The Fireside Motel looked vacant when we pulled into the parking lot. There was only one other car in the parking lot and honestly, I think it belonged to the creepy-looking teenager that was running the front desk.

I approached the counter and half-smiled in greeting. "Uh, hey?" I finally asked when he stayed silent.

"Welcome to Fireside," he stated, his voice empty and toneless. "How many, please?"

I glanced at Grace, narrowing my eyes and trying to communicate as much as I could with her. "Um," I hesitated. "Three. Two queens?"

The boy behind the desk nodded once and tapped a couple of times into the computer in front of him. He reached over his shoulder to take a room key from the hooks and held it out to Grace. Very carefully avoiding his touch, she took the key and put it in her pocket, turning away from the kid before he had a chance to interact with her any more than he already had. The next thing I knew, she was reaching for my hand and pulling it down from the counter and away from the kid's hands. She began feeding her thoughts through her touch.

" _He's one of them,"_ she stared forward, watching the kid behind the counter.

My head swiveled towards my wife and I could feel my eyes go wide.

" _Are you sure?"_ I asked, concern flooding my body and throwing me into high alert.

She nodded and released my hand. Walking over to Sabina, she pulled her by the shoulder and led her immediately out of the lobby and back into the parking lot. I threw a pile of twenties on the counter and glanced up at the kid once more. "We'll be here for awhile. No maids," I said staring at him. "I'll be back at the end of the week if we're still here."

The kid nodded vaguely and sat back down on the stool as I backed my way out of the lobby. Turning and jogging towards Grace, I leaned towards her. "What was up with Child of the Corn back there?" I ran my fingers through my wind-blown hair. "He's one of them?"

Grace was nodding and staring at the lobby. "I can't hear him," she whispered. "There's absolutely nothing in his brain."

"Awesome," I found myself saying sarcastically. "Okay, let's just go to our room and figure out a plan. I didn't think they'd be out this far." Sabina had been silent since waking up as we had approached the motel. She watched Grace with wide eyes and I could almost feel the terror rolling off her in waves. "Hey," I said, getting her attention. "You here?"

Her dark brown eyes shifted towards my stare and she nodded ever so slightly. Grace glanced at me and shook her head and I knew immediately that Sabina was scared shitless. We were losing her.

"Sabina, look at me," I said, bending to her eye line. "Look at me."

She swallowed hard and her eyes finally found mine.

"You're with the Winchesters, remember? While you while you're with us, we will protect you to the absolute best of our abilities, but we need you to guide us through the town, to ID people that we might be able to count on. If the whole town is gone, then we need to figure out a different plan." I glanced at Grace as she nodded encouragingly. "We're here to try and save your family, but you have to realize that it's going to be fucking hard."

She nodded, still silent.

I turned to Grace, but she had her eyes closed, standing statue-still. "What, Grace?" I asked, watching her carefully.

She held up a finger acknowledging that she had heard me, so I waited as patiently as I could. Finally, her blue eyes found mine and she smiled lightly. "Cas says that I can probably find the hex bags if we can figure out what is in them. We need to find one and take it apart."

"Find them?" I asked, shaking my head. "There must be thousands if they're controlling the town. We're never going to be able to find them all."

"If we can find one, Cas says that I might be able to concentrate on one of the stranger ingredients and burn them from where I am. You know, move molecules." She smiled and shrugged. "It's worth a shot."

"Sign me up," I said, ushering both the girls towards our room. "Just go to the room and I'll unload. We'll get a good night of sleep under our belt and figure out things in the morning."

Hours later, I could hear Sabina breathing softly across the room and I knew that sleep had found her. I was awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how we were going to approach this. I didn't know Grace was still awake until her hand found mine under the covers.

"We'll figure this out," she whispered. "We always do."

"Almost three thousand people, Grace," I answered, feeling the weight of what we were about to do. "How are we going to fix three thousand people?"

She answered with silence: she had no idea either.

…

"They're here," Rhiannon whispered to Sasha as she stared into the flame of a candle. "They are staying at the Fireside Motel on the outskirts of town."

Sasha nodded emotionlessly. "The Nephilim makes me nervous," she answered. "It's one thing to take on a Winchester, but the half-breed? Helena tells me that she is learning to use her abilities."

"Just because she can stop a bullet or two does not mean that she will be able to take on the Coven, or the Workers, for that matter," Rhiannon was angry. "Are you telling me that you are having doubts about carrying out Her orders?"

Sasha immediately looked at her feet, staring into the cold ground. "No," she whispered. "Of course not, I am simply afraid."

Rhiannon turned towards her sister and shook her head sadly. "There is no need to be afraid, sister," she spoke quietly. "We will be rewarded. When Her plan is carried out, She will gain control and not even the Heavenly Host will be able to resist. We will control them all."

"You don't even know if the spell will work on them yet," Sasha replied, doubt flooding her voice. "What happens when we can't control her?"

"Then you, my dear sister, will be the first to die."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Grace

Dean didn't sleep. I knew he wouldn't. He was up and showering before the sun rose the next morning. I got up as well, getting dressed in the dark. We had decided that we would head into town as a sightseeing family, heading towards the outermost edge of the United States, simply using Bangor as a stopover. We would investigate what we could while blending in as much as we were able to and do our best not to get taken over by whatever was controlling the people.

When Dean got out of the shower, we told Sabina to stay put while we headed towards the lobby, intent on finding the hex bag that was being used to control the kid at the front desk the night before. We were pressing our luck, considering the motel had security cameras, but there didn't seem to be anyone else around.

"Go, babe," Dean whispered as he leaned up against the counter casually. He would cover me if someone appeared, though it was doubtful this early in the morning.

I pulled drawers, looked behind the computer and lifted old phone books up out of the recycle bin to see if hex bags were hidden in any of the easy spots. There was nothing but dust. I stood and took a deep breath, glancing at Dean and shaking my head.

"Is there another room back there?" he asked, gesturing around the corner from the lobby. "Or check the bathrooms?"

I nodded and headed towards the back, intent on finding something, anything, that would give us a hint. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when I entered the employee's kitchen. The room was empty, but there was also nothing to support that anyone had been in here in weeks. There was mold growing in the coffee pot and the houseplant in the corner of the room was wilted and brown. There were plates of half-eaten food and coffee cups around the communal table and as Dean followed me in, we exchanged looks.

"This can't be good," he muttered. "Take the cabinets. I'll check around."

I opened door after door, looking for any evidence of the tiny hex bag that we hoped to find. Frustrated and knowing that we were pushing our luck, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, extending myself in attempt to find the object that didn't belong.

As I listened, I began to pick up on voices I didn't recognize. There were women talking amongst themselves about us, referring to Dean by name and calling me 'nephilim.'

"Dean," I whispered, stopping him mid step. "We're at least on the right track. I can hear the witches talking about us."

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Okay, that's a win I guess," he replied softly. "But where's the hex bag?"

I took a deep breath and let my hand rise, as it wanted to, eventually pointing towards the doorway that led further into the hotel. "I want to go that way," I answered, taking a step. "I think it's back that way."

Dean led the way through the hall and into what appeared to be the laundry room of the motel. "Where to, Divining Rod?"

I stepped passed him and reached into the tall cupboard above the first row of washers. "Give me a boost," I said, pulling myself up onto the machine. Dean complied, lifting me by the waist and helping me stand on top of the washing machine. The cupboard was deep and after rifling through laundry detergent and mousetraps, I pulled a tiny brown drawstring bag out from behind the extra lint trays. "Got it," I grinned, turning and jumping off the washer.

Dean moved closer to me, still glancing over his shoulder occasionally to check that we were still alone. "Okay, so what's in there that you'd be able to track down through the town?"

I untied the drawstring and took a deep breath, knowing that what I was about to try and do was a long shot. Very carefully, I opened the bag and allowed its contents to spread out over the surface of the washer.

There were tiny bone fragments and herb leaves with smells that I didn't recognize. There was dirt and a couple of strands of hair, though I didn't think the hair was from the kid behind the front desk…it was too long and dark. I glanced over my shoulder at Dean and shrugged. "This could be anything," I whispered. "And the hair isn't his. How are they concentrating the power?"

Dean sighed into my neck, frustrated. "I don't know. We need to find another one and see if they're different," he said quietly.

A door closed somewhere behind us and both Dean and I whipped around to face where the sound came from. Dean turned to face the sound completely as I turned back to the washer and stuffed the bag back together, wrapping it with the twine. I stuffed it into my pocket and pulled on the corner of Dean's flannel, leading him away from the laundry room. He followed silently as we ran back down the hall and towards the employee's break room and kitchen.

We walked calmly back towards our room and met Sabina as she was getting out of the shower. She looked up, hopeful, and asked, "Did you find a hex bag?"

I held open my hand and nodded. "Yeah, but there's nothing in here that I can immediately recognize. If they're all built like this, I might be able to focus on them and burn them from where I am, but until we find another one, I won't know if they're all the same."

Dean shrugged at me and threw me a half smile, "Let's head into town and stick with the story. We'll improvise."

…

"They have already found one of the hex bags," Sasha explained to Rhiannon and Helena. "I thought you said they were generic enough that the nephilim would not be able to find them."

"She's half angel," Rhiannon spat. "I wasn't sure about anything that she can do. This changes nothing. We are still going on with the plan. Use the Workers to gain control of Dean Winchester and she will do whatever she needs to do in order to keep him safe."

There was a deafening silence as the heavy wooden doors of the church opened slowly. Rhiannon, Sasha, and Helena turned and lowered their heads respectfully.

"Report," her quiet voice rang out through the church authoritatively.

Rhiannon stepped forward. "The Winchesters have come into town with one of the town's daughters in tow," she began. "They remain unaffected."

"Ah, yes; Sabina. For how much longer?"

"The nephilim has discovered her first hex bag," Sasha provided. "She will try to burn them." She glanced towards her sister nervously as the petite woman stepped into the colorful light from the stained glass windows. She wore a black leather jacket, fitting snugly around her slender frame. Her knee-high boots were buckled tightly against the black leather leggings she wore that accentuated her delicate feminine curves.

"She will try," her voice was quiet, still deciding if she would allow Rhiannon and Sasha to continue breathing. Thus far, they had only been minimally helpful. The witches in the coven had been more than willing to do what she wished, but it was not nearly enough.

She was still alone.

Her boot steps echoed through the expanse of the stone church and after glancing up at the enormous crucifix hanging in the front of the narthex, she shook her head. "I thought I asked this to be taken down."

Sasha and Rhiannon exchanged worried glances. They had attempted to bring down the crucifix, but it was so huge that they hadn't been able to do much without casting a larger spell. It had been a lower priority mission, so the coven had forgotten about the request.

"We apologize," Sasha whispered. "We attempted, but failed you. It was just too big to do without casting."

She rolled her light green eyes, tipping her head to roll a perfectly curled strand of fiery red hair from her face. "An entire Grand Coven," she sighed, annoyance seeping through her feminine features. "And you can't remove a crucifix."

She lifted her hand and snapped, and the crucifix burst into flames.

"Now," she sighed, "if you're finished fucking around and wasting my time, I would like to complete the bloody spell." Her voice was still quiet and measured, but still full of unchecked rage. She turned suddenly, her golden red curls swinging around her porcelain face. "Get control of the half-blood."

"Yes," all three of the witches' voices echoed into the church as the doors slammed behind her. Behind them, the crucifix continued to burn, the flames licking the walls delicately.

"Make sure that fire doesn't spread," Rhiannon muttered to Sasha, gesturing to the burning crucifix.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Grace

As we made it into Holden, the air got thicker and thicker as an eerie fog rolled around the highway, but the overall lack of activity worried me. There were no people anywhere, no thoughts to hear, no human interaction at all. Dean parked the Impala in front of the first diner we found and we walked up the steps warily.

"There's people inside, but they're not thinking anything," I explained. "It's like they're shells, just like Sabina described. This is terrifying."

Dean glanced at me as we walked into the diner. "Well, the faster we find another hex bag, the closer we can get to you burning them and then we can get the fuck out of here before the shit hits the fan."

"Hello," a young, frail woman greeted us at the door with a distant look in her eyes. "Three for breakfast?"

Sabina leaned forward. "Marybeth, it's me," she said quietly. "Sabina Wells." She glanced back at Dean and me. "Do you remember me? We graduated together last June."

Marybeth continued as if she hadn't heard Sabina. "Would you like a table or a booth?"

Dean licked his lips and took over. "A booth, please," he answered, shaking his head. He turned towards me and shook his head, whispering, "This place is straight out of the _Night of the Living Dead_."

I fell into step behind Sabina as we followed Marybeth to the booth. I could feel the pull of what I was looking for and immediately turned towards Dean. "There's another one behind the hostess desk. I'm just going to go over there and see what they do."

He nodded and watched as I changed directions, heading back the way we came. No one moved or acknowledged that I was behind the hostess station and within seconds, I was unraveling the second hex bag and discovering that it was the exact same mix of dirt, small animal bones, herb leaves, and one long strand of dark, curly hair.

Dean was watching intently as he sat at the booth with Sabina. I dug in my pockets to find my lighter and ignited it, setting the contents ablaze. The fire burned bright purple and immediately, there was a shift in the atmosphere. I could hear a single voice stand out from the crowd.

" _She burned one,"_ the voice echoed through my head. " _Have the Workers find them immediately and bring the nephilim to me."_

I turned to Dean and as we made eye contact across the room, I heard Sabina's thoughts go silent as she took the menu from Marybeth, brushing their hands together.

" _Oh, no,"_ I thought and strode across the room towards Dean. Batting the menu out of the hostess' fingers, I pulled Dean out of the booth with both my hands, moving him away from both Marybeth and Sabina, who was now sitting with a glazed look on her face. She still held the menu and appeared to be inspecting it but her eyes were unfocused and her mouth hung open slightly.

"Don't let them touch you," I muttered, pushing Dean behind me. I could feel my angelic abilities shimmer into movement, holding Marybeth away from us with a shield. "Look."

Dean's green eyes followed my nod towards Sabina and he sighed heavily. "Shit," he whispered. "Now what?"

We stood in the middle of the diner and slowly; I realized that every person in the diner was now staring at the two of us. "Workers," I repeated to myself, replaying the thought I had heard echo through my mind when I burned one of the hex bags. "They're using them as worker bees," I said to Dean, glancing up at him as he pulled his pearl handled forty-five from his shoulder holster. "They're not shells. They're a hive mind."

"Controlled by who?" he asked, clicking the safety off his gun.

"The witches, I suppose," I replied, licking my lips as my adrenaline began to kick in. "Leave Sabina here. At least she'll be safe. We'll figure it out and come back for her."

I felt Dean nod and push us both into action. I used my grace bubble to keep the other Workers at bay as they approached us, knowing somehow that I was the target. "I heard a thought just now," I said as we jogged down the steps and back out into the parking lot. "Someone knows that we're here and that someone knows I'm Nephilim."

Dean made a face and clenched his jaw as we headed for the Impala. "Remember when we just used to hunt wendigos and werewolves?" he asked as he slid into the seat next to me. "I miss the simple days."

"You and me both," I agreed, turning around to pull more weapons from the duffle bag. "I know what the hex bags are made with. It was the same as before. Get us somewhere towards the center of town and I'll try and burn them all at the same time."

…

Staring through the stained glass window, Delilah tilted her head and contemplated how she would destroy the Coven once she was done with it. Considering her history, she had very little tolerance for the other witches, and knew that they were simply a means to an end.

Rhiannon was one of the more powerful witches she had come across and she had assured Delilah that the spell work would be easy, once she had control of the nephilim. Grace Winchester was the last piece in an almost six year search for ingredients and being in the same town as that half-blood abomination brought every ounce of Delilah's rage to the surface.

She tucked her fiery hair behind her ears and took a calming breath. Soon, this would all be over and soon, she would feel the crunch of bones beneath her boots. Dean Winchester would be an easy mark once his wife was under her control. It wouldn't take much. A flick of her well-manicured nails and his head would complete a three hundred and sixty degree turn, Mark of Cain or not, and his wife would follow suit, after Delilah had collected the bits from her body that she needed in order to complete the other spells.

Then, after Delilah's life was whole once more, she would move on to the Winchester children, making them her pawns, needing them to eventually control Heaven, Hell, and everything in between. Delilah tapped her nails against the glass, smiling at her tiny Workers below.

How men in her position had failed so many times before, Delilah had no idea. Dekar had Grace and Serendipity Winchester in his clutches and allowed them to escape…he _allowed_ them to kill him and he _allowed_ them to leave Hell in one piece. He had been stupid enough to _allow_ the second Mark to be born, without being in control of him, which made everyone's life a bit more miserable.

Delilah had given too much credit to Ouriel as well, watching him from afar as he attempted to take Dean Winchester's son. The plan had been well executed; Delilah tried to give him credit for that at least. A plan almost fifteen years in the making and he tripped at the finish line because of the Warrior of Heaven. She was more powerful than most gave her credit for.

A woman usually was.

Delilah would not be making the same mistakes as Ouriel and Dekar had made before her. No, she would repair the damage that Grace Winchester had caused six years ago and she would finally put to rest the wars that had broken out in both Heaven and Hell, claiming her place as the new queen.

Slowly, she turned back towards the choir loft of the church and dragged her nails across the wood, splintering it and leaving a charred trail where her fingers had touched.

"Delilah," Rhiannon's voice beckoned quietly. "We have the Winchesters on the move. They are headed towards the center of town. The nephilim thinks she will be able to burn the hex bags."

The light from the stained glass window glittered through Delilah's golden red hair as she flicked her gaze to the blonde witch and waited silently for her to continue.

Rhiannon's mouth hung open slightly. "Will she be able to do that?" she asked, panic gripping her voice. "We didn't anticipate her being able to eliminate the bags. We'll lose control."

Delilah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "We have plenty of time," she consoled. "And, if somehow, your little hex bag control fails, you will be the first to die."

"Delilah, you can't just blame me for something like this. The Coven—"

"The Coven does what I want it to do and if you are not helping, then you are unnecessary." Delilah lifted her fingers to snap, but Rhiannon held up her hands, palms out.

"Wait!" Rhiannon gasped. "Please, please wait."

"You are boring me," she muttered. Tilting her head, Delilah waited for Rhiannon to continue. She tugged on one of her own red curls and then wound it around a polished finger. "Hurry up."

"The hex bags are scattered all over the town. If we put a Worker at each one, they can protect them from the nephilim."

"Do you really think that a Worker will be able to stop molecules from being moved? They're human and you're an idiot."

Rhiannon stared at Delilah and waited for judgment. The smaller but more powerful of the two women sighed, shaking her red curls from side to side as she approached. "How long did it take for you to grow your hair this long?" Delilah asked; her tone changing as she moved towards her long, pearl white locks. "It's a work of art, really."

"Thank you," Rhiannon bowed her head, grateful for the compliment from Delilah. "I have had long hair for millennia. In the Old Country, my mother would braid it intricately for rituals. She said it would bring me power." Rhiannon petted a strand as it fell over her shoulder, the ends dancing just above her knees. "Superstition, of course."

Delilah smiled sweetly, batting her eyes. "Don't dismiss the power of good hair," she purred, wrapping a white wave around her fingers, feeling the texture of each individual strand. "Sampson did…dishing all of his dirty little secrets." Delilah's pale green eyes went wide, "And look where it got him."

Rhiannon's breath was coming faster now, her fear taking hold, realizing that her mistress was still so doubtful of her abilities. "Please," her voice was barely a whisper; her body was frozen in fear. "Please let me prove to you that we still have control, Delilah."

"You are nothing," Delilah whispered, holding Rhiannon's hair tightly and tugging her close to her face. "You have nothing without me and if I have to remind you again, I will take more than your hair."

As she tugged once more, Delilah allowed Rhiannon's long, beautiful hair to slip through her fingers, becoming a ribbon of fire, climbing rapidly to the top of her head as she screamed in pain, forcing her to drop to her hands and knees. Delilah smiled lightly to herself, emotionlessly turning away from the witch on the ground, and stepped over her writhing, smoking form. Rhiannon screamed in pain as she touched the now-charred skin beneath her fingertips and watched as Delilah walked through the smoking soot, leaving boot prints through what remained from her once-perfect white locks.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Dean

I had never been so on edge over a witch-hunt before in my life. I couldn't tell if it was because this was the first time I had ever had my wife with me and I hated the idea that we might not come out of this unscathed, or because we had no idea how big the coven was…or really what we were going up against, but I knew that this wasn't going to go like we planned.

Grace sat next to me as we idled into town, our original plan going up in smoke. There was no one here to fool about why we were in town, so we didn't bother keeping up the front. Next to me, Grace changed her sitting position again. "This is weird," she whispered, staring out the passenger window. "It's so quiet, it hurts."

I shook my head, knowing that if it was as quiet as Grace was describing, we might already be too late. "So where's the coven?" I asked, turning to park sideways in the plentiful spots down Main Street. "If we can jump them before they know we're here…"

"They already know," Grace muttered, getting out of the Impala and standing in the middle of the street with her hands on her hips. "They know too much about us. This isn't about a coven of witches…" she faded away, not completing her thought.

My heart jumped into my throat. "Then what the fuck is it about?"

Grace's blue gaze flicked to mine, her mouth slightly agape, fear dripping through her features. "There's a new player. I can't hear her, but she's there. The witches are thinking about her and one of them is interacting with her."

"Shit," I mumbled, pulling my gun and checking to see that I had a full clip. "How is this gonna go down?"

"They're sending the Workers out. The Queens are protecting the hex bags."

"Queens?" I questioned as I opened the trunk, tossing Grace an angel blade and The Judge. "You haven't mentioned queens before. You're saying this is literally like a hive of bees?"

"More or less," she agreed. "The longer I'm here, the more I understand it. They're coming for us."

I pulled gun after gun out of the trunk of the Impala and strapped on holsters anywhere that would fit and draped the strap of the sawed off shotgun around my chest. I loaded the knife guards with blades of all sizes and shapes, and filled my pockets with all kinds of different ammo, readying myself for battle as much as I could. Grace was silent again, her head tilted to one side, looking too much like Cas as she continued to listen to things I couldn't hear. I held out a box of forty-five caliber towards her and when she didn't hold out her hand to take it, I nudged her arm with the box. "Baby," I whispered. "Take this."

"We can't kill them, Dean," she answered, glancing at the box of bullets and shaking her head. "They're just people."

"They're people being controlled by a coven of witches. If they try to kill us, we shoot back." I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to see it from Grace's perspective. She stared at me, shaking her head as I tried to get her to take the box of ammo again. "Grace, listen to me," I began, moving closer to her. "This is sounding more and more like a trap to get us here. If you're saying that there's a new player, then this was the plan all along and the end game is usually to kill us." I glanced around, seeing more and more of the Holden townspeople come out of shops and cars, moving slowly, but heading directly towards us. They moved slowly, like a pack of zombies from a TV show Sam and I had been watching. It was unnerving.

Finally, I got Grace to take the box of ammo. She dumped it into her pockets, tossed the empty carton into the trunk, and finally loaded The Judge. Without looking at me, Grace took a deep breath as she dumped another box of bullets into her coat pockets. "Try not to kill them," she finally began. "Sabina's family could be out here. Stall them while I try to burn the hex bags," she rattled off her commands under her breath as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. "The witches are coming out. Take them out and we might be able to break the spell if I can't get the hex bags to burn." Turning towards me, she took another deep breath. "Shoot to kill the witches. Wound the townspeople."

Nodding, I let the deck lid close and turned to face the closest townsperson who had meandered towards us from the diner. Grace held up her hand, palm out, and he tried to keep walking, but it was as if he was walking towards an invisible barrier. He couldn't get any closer, no matter how hard he tried.

"He's one of the queens," Grace muttered, turning away. "Don't let the queens touch you."

"Is that how it spread so fast?" I asked, staring at the vacant look in his eyes. He tried to reach for me, but was still unable to get through Grace's shield.

She nodded, still staring out onto Main Street. "The queens spread the spell by touch. More are coming." Grace glanced at me sidelong, her blue eyes calm, but her voice gave it away. She was nervous. "I'm going to try for the hex bags."

I moved in front of Grace, hoping to be able to protect her as much as I could as she tried to find and destroy all of the hex bags that were scattered throughout the town. I didn't have to do much, though, considering my wife was both holding the line and concentrating so hard on the task at hand that she struggled to keep her breathing even.

There were men, women, and children filing out onto the main drag, walking slowly, but with purpose. I knew, if it came down to it, I could just shove Grace back into the Impala and run, but I also knew that now that she was attached to Sabina, we would have to go back for her and still figure out a way to break the spell.

"Grace, I'm gonna need some status updates, here," I muttered to my wife, itching to pull the trigger as more and more of Holden's people pressed up against her shield. They still reached lazily towards us, stopped by Grace's bubble. The numbers were climbing fast: already there were close to twenty people crowded around us. I licked my lips and tried to stay calm.

She shook her head at me, trying to keep her concentration on the hex bags. From my position, I caught movement from farther up the street; a flash of light, maybe a reflection, through the stained glass window of an old stone church. I stared up into the windows and realized that the movements I saw were not from Holden's people; they were much too fast.

"Gracie," I whispered, moving away from the first man that had pushed up against Grace's shield. I stood with my back pressed against hers, trying my best not to start shooting. "Gracie, how's it going?"

Glancing at the house closest to us, I could see the glimmer of flames lick the windows. "I got one or two, but this is too hard. I don't really know what muscle to flex. I'm not gonna be able to get them all so we're gonna need a new plan."

I gestured up the street, towards the church. "Who are they?" I asked as we moved together through the street. I flicked the safety off my gun and pointed towards the stained glass window. "Unaffected or witches?"

I felt her body shift as she turned to look up at the church. "Witches," she whispered. "They're watching us."

"Let's go introduce ourselves."

…

"They are already moving through the street," Sasha whispered to her sister as she helped perform a spell to heal the charred skin upon her head. "The nephilim is able to make a shield that blocks the queens and workers. The hex bag control spell isn't working because they can't get to her."

Rhiannon closed her eyes as her sister finished the healing chant. Her head would scar, though, most likely unable to grow her perfect hair ever again. She had disappointed Delilah. It would not happen again.

She took a shaky breath and looked up at Sasha. "We will go hand to hand if we have to. Gather the coven and tell them to be ready. We'll break down the nephilim's defenses and use the Workers to attack. She will be unwilling to fire on the innocents," Rhiannon explained. "We will not fail."

Sasha nodded once and turned on the toe of her red stiletto, disappearing through the door of the choir loft.

…

"They're going to try and use the Workers as a distraction," Grace muttered as we made our way up the street towards the church.

"Awesome," I muttered.

We were taking on a crowd as we moved, looking almost like we were the head of a comet; the tail streaking through the street behind us. There had to be hundreds of people in the street with us by now and I marveled at my wife's ability to stay calm.

I heard a heavy door slam and whipped around to see where the noise came from. There were about a dozen women standing in the middle of the street, filtering out through the front door of the stone church, all dressed as if they were going to prom. Long dresses dusted the asphalt and heels clicked as they walked, echoing through the silent street. Automatically, I moved myself in front of Grace, standing ready to defend my wife if need be.

"Nephilim," a petite woman greeted. Her long, auburn hair was tightly curled and I wondered if she was the head where the hair from the hex bags came from. "You will not be able to save them all. Give yourself up now, come quietly, and no civilian needs to die."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, intervening. "Who the fuck are you? What the hell is going on?"

"Who I am is unimportant," the brunette answered. "Our task was to get her here, and we have succeeded in doing that. If you remain a thorn in my side, I will destroy you, Dean Winchester. You are an unnecessary headache."

"I'm glad to hear that," I replied, raising my gun. "Means I'm doing my job." I fired three times in rapid succession and immediately, the bullets were tossed aside and light flashed across the street as the witches performed some sort of spell to block my shots.

Grace's shield wavered slightly; there was a shimmer as she broke her concentration for the few seconds it took to fire my gun. She was trying to do too much. "Stop trying to burn the bags. Concentrate on us," I whispered as I backed towards her.

She nodded and took a deep breath and I could almost hear hum of the force field as Grace concentrated her energy on protecting us. The brunette witch stepped forward, revealing another, taller witch standing behind her. Her head was completely bald as if her hair had been burned off. The two witches raised their hands and began chanting together and the wind began to whip all around us, but we were still untouched by the spell, considering Grace had gotten so good at protection. I took another deep, ragged breath and had no idea how we were going to move this along, especially if all we did was attempt to throw bullets and spells at each other. We were at a stalemate. As I came to this conclusion in my head, Grace moved closer to my side and I saw her nod.

I unloaded four more rounds in rapid succession towards the coven and watched in horror as the spell the witches were chanting changed the bullets' trajectory and they flew towards the horde of townspeople behind us, hitting four of them in the head. They dropped where they were, barely noticed by the crowd.

Grace gasped and her shield faltered; her emotions getting the best of her.

"Shit," I muttered, staring behind me and watched as the people of the town began to bring out weapons of their own, pulling them from waistbands, ankle holsters, shirtsleeves, and undergarments. We were outnumbered by hundreds and I had no idea what to do. "Can you hold with that many weapons?" I muttered, stepping back towards Grace.

"We're about to find out," she answered. Her blue gaze turned icy as she took a deep breath. "Here we go."

The brunette smiled at me and winked, knowing she had us pretty much cornered. She addressed the crowd of townspeople and nodded, saying, "Destroy Dean Winchester. Leave the nephilim for us."

It was as if the world around us went silent as Grace gasped, feeling the bullets fly through the air as they headed straight for me. I ducked, hitting the ground as fast as I could as Grace raised her arms, palms out, towards the majority of the onslaught. The air around me pulsed, making my ears pop, as Grace pushed against the rounds and time seemed to slow down as I watched most of them fall to the ground, being pushed away by my angelic wife.

She was still learning, though, and a few got through. I could feel the searing heat as one of the bullets made it past her barrier and pierced my shoulder as I turned to get out of the way. I knew immediately that it wasn't deep and that it was not life-threatening, but Grace took the attack personally and ripped about half of the weapons from the townspeople's hands, tossing them across the street and throwing them into the open field behind the church.

"I will admit that you are powerful," the brunette witch said, "more powerful than I expected. She turned towards her coven and gestured to me and Grace, seemingly unamused. "Rhiannon, please separate them."

Immediately, I felt myself physically being pulled away from Grace. The blood from my shoulder wound began dripping down my arm as I struggled to stay as close to her as possible. Steeling her jaw, Grace simultaneously reached for my hand and turned towards the coven and pushed, forcing the witch called Rhiannon to take a step back. She reached for my arm as I struggled not to take a step backwards, but I had no choice. I raised my free hand and fired my forty-five ruthlessly towards the coven, aiming at each annoyingly perfect head of hair. Almost falling to the ground, I was forced to take another step back as the coven continued to chant. They were forcing us apart a bit at a time and I knew that Grace would have to start making decisions: protect the people or me?

I fired towards the coven again, emptying my clip and dropping it out of my gun with my free hand, but I was forced to drop connection with Grace so that I could reload. The witches' chant grew in volume and intensity and I grit my teeth, trying to stay as close to Grace as I could as she continued to bat bullets out of the air. There was no way I was going to be able to hold out much longer without physically wrapping myself around my wife.

Exchanging glances with Grace, my decision was made as soon as she nodded at me, telepathically hearing my plan. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, I completely shifted my weight and changed my direction, throwing myself into an all-out sprint in the same direction as the pull the witches had on me; heading back towards the Impala and sliding over the hood. I dove for cover as the townspeople open fired again and swore loudly as dozens of bullets pierced the side of my Impala.

"Dean?" Grace shouted from her place on the street, still holding the glittering bubble of protection around herself.

"I'm fine!" I answered. "I'm finally getting pissed, but I'm fine." There was still blood dripping from the wound in my shoulder, but the initial pain had subsided. I could deal with the dull ache and figure the rest out later.

The townspeople turned their weapons on my wife and I braced, silently praying that she would be able to hold her shield. Watching through the broken passenger side window of the Impala, I saw Grace turn back towards the coven and push her hands towards them, palms out; her body language telling me she was done fucking around. Grace Winchester was about to show everyone what she was made of.

It was bedlam.

The coven of witches scattered, their attention still held on Grace, chanting occasionally under their breath. The group of townspeople moved as the tide, filling in the space between where Grace stood and where I had ducked for cover. They were physically pushing my wife closer to the witches and there was nothing I could do about it unless I started shooting people.

"Grace!" I shouted over the crowd.

She didn't answer, so I was forced from my hiding spot and knelt high enough to stare out the windows. Grace was holding her shield in place, pushing back at the crowd and refusing to budge and the witches had separated and were now hurling different objects through the air, all aiming towards Grace, attempting to knock her out. Everything they lobbed towards her, she batted out of the air with a flick of her hands. Winds began to swirl through the streets at a faster pace and there was so much happening, I was worried about her concentration. I felt useless, watching the scene unfold, so decided to make the best of it with the options I had available.

I pulled my forty-five and aimed through the open window, shooting at the brunette witch that appeared the most distracted by controlling the herd of people. I fired twice and she screamed in pain as I finally made contact and she dropped to her knees.

"Sasha!" Rhiannon shouted, hurtling herself towards the fallen witch. With the other witches distracted, I took the opportunity to fire again, this time aiming for Baldy.

The four bullets that raced for her skull were stopped by three of the Workers, throwing themselves into the line of fire, sacrificing themselves for the women who controlled them. They hit the ground with a sickening thud and I squeezed my eyes shut, swearing under my breath. I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I took a deep breath and tried again.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Grace

Using my abilities is a lot harder out here in real life than it was in the barn with Cas, Dean, and Serra. The air felt physically heavy as I tried to keep my shield in place, and the longer I focused, the harder it became. I knew that I would have to change my attack plan soon, or risk exhausting myself before the fight had really started.

Dean was safe for now, behind the Impala, but as I watched, more people from the town filled the streets, all carrying different weapons, obviously ready to go to war for the women that controlled them. "Holy shit," I whispered, shaking my head slowly in disbelief.

Three women from the town had approached the Impala and were about to fire into the cabin, through the windows towards Dean, but I took a deep breath and with all my might, pushed my grace towards them and they flew out of the way, landing about six feet away from Dean and the Impala. I turned back towards the witches and shook my head.

"What is it you want?" I yelled, still holding my barrier as best I could. "Who are you working for?"

Another series of shots rang through the air and I could feel the energy from the bullets as I watched in slow motion. Instead of trying to stop them, I flicked my hand and attempted to steer their trajectory towards the two witches that seemed to be leading the pack.

Sasha and Rhiannon ducked out of the way, light exploding from their hands as they blocked my attack. There were four more bullets fired behind me and I turned, flicking those shots out of the way as well. "Stop!" I yelled. "This is just going to get old! Why do these people have to die? What do you even want with us?"

"It's not what I want with you, Nephilim. It's what _She_ wants with you," Rhiannon replied, stepping forward and attempting to cast a spell once more. I felt a cold wind filter through my wall, making it shimmer as she pressed her magic harder towards me.

"Who is _she?"_ I shouted, struggling to hold my barrier. I felt as if something was physically pressing from the top of my bubble, forcing me lower to the ground. Whatever spell they were using, I knew I wouldn't be able to hold my shield for much longer.

There was an explosion of gunshots from behind me and I whipped around, my shield momentarily forgotten as I watched Dean make a beeline for the building across the street. I knew he was heading for a more protective shelter and trying to draw the fire away from me and his car, but I panicked, not being able to keep up with the shots that rang through the air. Another two bullets grazed his body as he ran, making him stumble. I caught the third, flicking it away from his head at the last possible second.

With his distraction, I was able to regain the full force of my protective bubble and I did my best to move towards my husband. He was kneeling at the corner of a brick building, watching me intently to see what I would do next. The crowd of people from the town shifted again and they filled in the gap that was between us. I could no longer see Dean, so my attention strayed from my husband to the coven once more.

The witches were chanting again and I decided that enough was enough. Taking a deep breath and lowering my hands, I pressed my teeth together, finally feeling some of the Browning rage that boiled near the surface as I carried the shield with me. I walked purposefully, headed straight for two of the unnamed witches from the coven and they were suddenly terrified with my change in tactic. I approached rapidly and they looked panicked, trying to come up with a spell that could take me down, but I was on them too quickly.

As they raised their hands to cast a spell, I flicked my hand without regret and their necks twisted sickly, forcing them both to collapse on the ground in an awkward but beautiful pile of flowing fabric; their porcelain faces forever contorted in pain.

"Helena! Beatrice!" Sasha shouted, covering her mouth as tears pooled in her eyes. I turned towards Sasha as Rhiannon pushed the full intensity of her powers towards me, muttering under her breath, and I physically had to take a step back. As our powers met in the middle of the street, a warm glow began to illuminate the pavement.

I shook from effort and began to sweat as I noticed that a few of the townspeople had moved towards Rhiannon, attempting to get closer to their leader to protect her. I didn't want to hurt them, but they were in the way, so I fanned my fingers, dusting the air, and they were tossed towards the empty parking lot behind the church and collapsed into a pile; knocked out.

Dean took that opportunity to run back towards me and I allowed the barrier to weaken long enough to let him to get close to as we continued down the street. The crowd began firing without hesitation at both of us, trying their best to simply overwhelm me with their rapid fire as we continued to move. The more bullets that flew at me, the harder it was to concentrate on protection, so I tried again to turn the bullets rather than simply stopping them. The shimmer of my barrier told me that I was losing control of it and as Dean raised his gun, I gave up and allowed my wall down completely so that Dean could take his shots. As he did, I felt the burn as one of the townspeople's bullets pierced my skin, embedding itself deep into my left shoulder.

It took my breath away, but I absorbed the impact while staying on my feet. "Shit," I grunted, glancing down at the blood that was now seeping through my shirt. "Dean," I gasped, turning towards him and reaching for his arm as I reestablished our protective barrier. His Mark of Cain was ready and waiting as I pressed my palm down on the red scar and almost immediately, my body pushed the bullet out of my shoulder and I took a deep, ragged breath. "It's okay," I said; seeing the concern wash over his face. "I'm okay."

My husband nodded once and turned back towards the fight, gesturing at the propane tanks that were lined up behind the restaurant to our left with his guns. "Last resort," he whispered.

Nodding, I turned my attention back towards the witches that were spread out around me. Rhiannon was next on my list.

…

"Why is she crying?" Serra asked with her eyebrows knitted together in fear, glancing at Sam as she took Faith from his arms. "She is the baby that never cries!"

Sammy shook his head and backed away as he handed her over. He turned towards the living room of the Big House and gestured, "I don't know. She's close to hysterical."

Glancing back at their oldest niece, Serra shook her head, a fresh wave of worry washing over her. "Where are Glory and Lib?" she asked, already heading towards the steps in the Big House. "Liberty?" she asked, raising her voice enough to be heard. "Glory!"

Everett followed in Serra's wake as she climbed the steps, trying to get closer to his sister as she cried hysterically. He kept trying to reach for her, to offer her as much comfort as he could, but as Serra gained speed, he couldn't keep up and tripped twice coming up the steps. She pounded into Liberty's room and glanced around, still looking for the elder sisters. "Liberty! Glory!"

Pausing to listen, Serra heard crying from the upstairs bathroom and pushed the door open to find both Liberty and Glory huddled on the cold tile, holding each other and rocking back and forth on the floor. Levi sat in front of both of them as they held each other, wrapping his arms around his cousins protectively.

"Girls, girls, girls," Serra started, sitting on the floor with them. "Hey, hey. Come on. Everyone is so upset. What's happening?"

"Momma and Daddy," Libby managed.

Terror seeped into Serendipity Winchester's blood while she stared at the looks on her nieces' faces. "What about Momma and Daddy?" she whispered, holding Faith close, trying to hear the older girls through the younger's sobs. "What's wrong? What did you see?"

Liberty stared up at her and wiped her face, snot and tears smearing across her cheeks. Sam appeared in the doorway as she hesitated, trying to take a breath through her sobs. "It's _her,"_ she whispered.

"Her, who?" Serra pressed. "Who are you talking about, kiddo?"

Levi turned to his mother and blinked slowly, his light hazel eyes looking too much like her own. "Libby saw Auntie Grace and Uncle Dean and that woman was there with them."

"What woman?" Sam asked.

"The woman from her bad dreams."

…

The gunfire was relentless as we made our way closer towards the remaining members of the coven. They were spreading out, making it more difficult to fight them as a group, but Dean continued to unload his guns, round after round; the shell casings hitting the ground in rapid succession. Everything was happening in slow motion for me and I tried my best to shield myself and my husband from the incoming shots.

I felt it coming before it happened and I tried to strengthen the backside of my walls quickly, but I was too late. I watched with my mouth open, trying to get control of the bullet that was racing for Dean's back, but I curved it too late; there just wasn't enough time and I was spread to thinly. The bullet found its target with a wet thud, causing Dean to grunt and hit his knees.

"Shit," I muttered again, immediately bending with Dean to catch him before he hit the ground and to make sure he was alright. "Babe? Are you okay?" I ducked as another dozen bullets flew towards us, but rebounded off my barrier. "Dean?"

He let himself fall completely to the ground with my help, breathing heavily. "This might be bad," he strained, rolling to the side. There was blood flowing openly from the gaping wound on his back, just below his neck. "I'm already losing feeling in my legs."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I whispered, holding my hand down on his Mark, struggling to hold the wall while I also tried to pull the bullet out of his back and heal his wound. "Hold on, baby," I continued, holding back tears and trying my best to stay calm, but the panic was suffocating. There was simply too much happening. I couldn't do it all at once and I could feel the emotion as it crept up my spine. "Cas…Lucia…someone," I breathed, "Help me. I can't do this alone anymore."

There was a sudden flash of light as Castiel appeared out of nowhere. Without hesitating, he lifted Dean to his feet, and then over his shoulder with ease as he held out his hand and pushed three witches to the ground, moving closer to the brick wall, and keeping it at our backs. I followed Castiel's example, holding out my hands and pushing the townspeople's bullets away from us with a flick of my own hands.

The witches were getting increasingly desperate, pulling mailboxes and cars towards us as their chants grew in intensity. Cas got as close to the brick wall of the building as he could and tried to prop Dean up against it, but he kept slumping over, already completely passed out.

"There's a bullet in his spine," I muttered, turning towards Cas as a car exploded near me. The fire pressed against the shield that protected us, but I could still feel the heat through the barrier.

Nodding once, Cas leaned Dean forward to inspect his wound. He closed his eyes and concentrated as I continued to fight; throwing anything that wasn't nailed down towards the women in the coven. I caught a blue glow out of the corner of my eye and saw that Dean was blinking awake, pain written all over his face. "Oh, hey, Cas," he greeted weakly. "Nice of you to stop by."

"Don't move," Cas demanded, worry creasing his brow. "I need to repair the damage done to your spinal cord."

"Awesome," Dean replied, unfazed. He seemed loopy, almost as if he was drunk and his head swayed from side to side as he squinted, trying to see the fight as it unfolded in front of him. "Don't worry," Dean continued, "Gracie's got it covered. Look at her go."

I chanced a glance back at my husband and I caught a sight of the crimson stains all over the wall, the ground and his shoulders. His blood was everywhere and it took everything I was to stay focused on the women trying to kill us. "Grace," Cas muttered, nodding towards the witches and redirecting my attention. "They're planning to throw another car."

The townspeople were spread all over the streets, but the crowd was parting as the witches were raising their hands to begin chanting once more. I locked eyes with the bald witch, the anger in her face more than apparent. She was muttering a new spell under her breath and I tried to hear what she was saying, but I couldn't understand the language or distinguish any of the words. I shot a look at the angel working behind me trying to save my husband's life, as black pillars of smoke rose from the ground, circling the sky and then shooting off into the low clouds, heading west.

Moments passed in silence as I waited for something to happen, watching intensely with my mouth open. The townspeople had stopped moving, almost as if they were waiting for a command. Their weapons were at their sides and they had turned to watch Rhiannon and Sasha as they took each other's hands and began chanting once more.

Behind me, I could hear Dean swear as Cas' healing blue light faded. I couldn't force myself to look away from the witches, but asked, "We good?" The boys didn't answer right away and fear still nipped at my confidence. "Dean? Cas?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, coughing. "Yeah, I think so. I can feel my legs again and man, they fucking hurt."

Caving to my desire to see my husband safe, I turned for the slightest moment to watch Castiel help Dean to his feet. He weaved a few times and Cas steadied him, making sure he wouldn't collapse. "The nerve clusters at the base of his neck may have been damaged. We don't have time to do more repair, but when we get home, I will make sure that there will be no lasting damage," Castiel said, turning towards me.

I nodded my thanks and watched as Cas stood up straighter, listening to something I couldn't hear.

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused at his sudden change in body language. "What, Cas?" I asked, taking an involuntary step closer towards him.

Castiel's eyes were wide with fear. "Liberty just prayed for me," he whispered, his intense blue stare flicking up to mine.

White-hot terror spread through my body as the world around me went silent. I could feel the tightness in my throat as a sob threatened to escape my chest, and I tried to take a deep breath, pointing west, towards our home. "Go, Cas. Go!" I screamed desperately.

He disappeared on the spot as the sound came back to my ears and another car launched towards us, exploding on impact and forcing Dean and me up against the wall. I struggled to hold my barrier and I could feel the newest burst of adrenaline, knowing that Liberty was scared enough to reach out for Castiel. What could be happening at our home to force her to pray for him?

Dean could only stare at me, his breathing ragged as he struggled to stay standing. "Focus, Grace," he whispered, obviously still in pain. "We can't do anything about it here. One thing at a time."

Nodding at my husband, I took a deep, ragged breath, though my thoughts were consumed with the safety of our children. I forced myself to focus, turning back towards the coven of witches and townspeople that were doing everything in their power to murder us. My energy was renewed.

We had work to do.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Liberty

I could hear them coming before they came. I could hear everything now, and it was really loud, all the time. Momma tried to tell me that this would happen, and that it had happened to her when she was my age, but I didn't understand what she had been talking about.

I did now.

Glory and Faith were still crying and I tried to stop and tried to get control of myself, but feeling what they felt is something that happened a lot now. Everett sat on the broken arm of the couch as Auntie Lucky tried to calm down Faith, but I knew she wasn't hungry or wet. She could hear them, too. We all could.

"Uncle Sammy," I said, pulling on his sleeve, trying to get his attention away from the babies and Glory. "There are demons coming." Uncle Sammy looked down at me and I knew that look. He gave that look to Daddy a lot. He didn't believe me. "You have to believe me," I pleaded. "It's why Faith started crying. She can hear them too."

Uncle Sammy bent down to be eye level with me and I could feel Auntie Lucky's eyes on my back. "How do you know?" he asked. "Did you see them?"

"I can hear them," I said, talking quietly. "I can hear everything now. It's like a light switch got turned on. I can barely hear you, even though you're sitting right next to me."

Uncle Sammy threw a look over my head and I knew he was talking to Auntie Luck without saying anything out loud. Momma and Daddy did that all the time too. While he was down at my level, I reached out to touch his face and I knew he was seeing what I wanted him to see while his eyes focused on something far off. I showed him the big towers of black smoke that came from the ground while Momma, Daddy, and Uncle Cas were fighting the witches. I showed him how they were flying over the country, trying to get to our house as fast as they could.

As the scene ended in my head, Uncle Sammy's eyes flicked to mine and I knew he believed me. "Okay, kiddo," he whispered. "Okay." He stood quickly and turned to Aunt Lucky, saying, "Lib saw demons," he whispered, trying not to freak out Everett, but I knew he already knew. "They're coming."

"What?" Auntie Lucky said, standing suddenly as she still held my baby sister. "Here?"

Uncle Sam nodded and glanced back at me. "Panic room," he said, pointing downstairs to Jody's apartment. "I'll gather up everyone else." He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "How much time do we have, Lib?"

I shook my head and shrugged. "I don't know," I replied. "I don't know how fast they can fly."

Uncle Sammy turned and ran up the stairs and I could hear him thudding through our bedrooms. Auntie Luck was running to the gun safe that Daddy had in the dining room and trying to spin the knob to open it. She tried twice and looked up, towards the second story and shouted, "Sam, what's the combination? Did Dean change it?"

From upstairs, Uncle Sammy answered her, "I thought it was Lib's birthday!"

Aunt Lucky tried again, still holding Faith as she continued to cry. It was the first time I had ever heard my baby sister so upset. I walked towards Auntie Luck and held out my arms. "Here," I said over her cries, "I'll take her so you can do that."

She nodded and handed Faith to me and automatically, the baby started to calm down, almost as if she realized that we were finally heading into action. I watched as Aunt Lucky tried the combination again and suddenly, I remembered Daddy changing it again before they left. "Wait! It's not my birthday," I whispered, thinking. "It's Faith's."

Aunt Lucky glanced up at me and nodded. "I really wish your dad would keep us in the loop when he decided to do shit like this," she said, shaking her head. "Sorry."

"It's okay," I replied automatically, knowing for years what words Daddy and Aunt Lucky could say and I couldn't. It came with the territory.

Finally, she spun the combination knob correctly and it popped open. She grabbed the box of bullets at the bottom of the safe but shook her head. "They took all the guns," she whispered. "What's the fucking point of locking it if it's empty?" She slammed the door shut again and turned to stare at me.

The fear that I had been feeling for the last hour or so choked me and I tried my best to stay calm, just like Momma. Auntie Luck stood up again and glanced out the window. "Lib," she started, looking down at me. "I will be back in five minutes. I have to go get my guns and blades." She stared out the windows and her breathing came faster. She was getting nervous. "Do I have time?"

"I don't know," I breathed. Faith took a deep ragged breath and I shook my head as she began to wail again.

"Liberty, focus. Do I have time?"

"I'm sorry, Auntie! I don't know!"

She looked at me for a full five seconds as she decided what to do. "I can't do shit without my weapons," Auntie whispered. Then, steeling herself, she kissed me on the head. "Panic room, Lib. Now." She tore off towards the back door and sprinted across the field between our houses.

When she opened the door, Johnny came into the house and began pacing around. He wagged his tail and licked my face when he got close enough and I pushed him away. Uncle Sammy ran back down the stairs, carrying Glory and Charlie. Levi followed behind, trying his best to keep up with his dad. Uncle Sammy looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows. "Where's Auntie Serra?"

I pointed towards their house across the field. "Momma and Daddy took all the guns with them," I stated simply. "She ran to get hers. She said she would be back in five minutes."

Uncle Sammy blew the hair out of his face and nodded. "Okay," he started. "Come on. Let's lock it down."

I made the move to follow Uncle Sammy as he trotted towards the staircase to our basement, but the entire house shook as it felt like something big collided with it. Uncle Sam stopped and glanced around, a worried look shooting across his face. "Lib," he whispered. "Come to me. Come right now."

I nodded and made the move to come closer to him, but another shake of the house made it hard to move. Faith had stopped crying and she was watching my face carefully, so I tried to be brave, like Daddy. "It's okay, Faith," I managed, trying to take another step through the earthquake that shook our whole house. "We'll be okay."

The back door slammed open again and Auntie Luck came bursting in and dove towards us, standing in front of us protectively. I tried to move closer to Uncle Sammy, but every step I took felt like he was moving farther away from me. "Reach, Lib," Uncle Sam strained. "You can make it."

"Sam!" Aunt Lucky screamed, physically pushing us towards Uncle Sammy. He tried to reach us, but something invisible shoved him down the stairs and he fell, holding Charlotte and Glory. Trying his best, he curled his body around my sister and cousin, protecting them from the fall as much as he could. Levi and Everett tumbled after him and they all landed in a pile at the bottom, still being physically pushed through the doorway of the panic room, sliding on the mat in the doorway.

Johnny started barking at something none of us could see and we turned towards him, trying to figure out what we needed to do. "Go, Liberty!" Auntie Luck shouted above the wind that began to swirl inside of our house.

I tried to take a step, but it was like my feet were glued to the floor. "I can't!" I yelled, still trying to move. "I can't move my feet!"

Aunt Lucky tried to get to us, but ended up falling to the floor because her feet wouldn't leave the ground either. Finally, the wind stopped, and we heard the panic room's door slam shut. The combination lock panel exploded, locking the rest of my family inside and I could hear Uncle Sammy immediately begin to pound on the door, trying to get out. "Serra!" he shouted. "Liberty!"

Faith began to cry weakly again, rubbing her face as Johnny was tossed down the basement steps. He whimpered and closed his eyes and I turned to look at Auntie Luck, a sob coming up from my chest. She shook her head, trying to keep me brave. "He's okay, Lib," she whispered as the lights began to flicker. "He's okay. Whatever it is just knocked him out."

I tried to nod, but I barely moved my head. I had never been so scared before. Momma was always there to make sure I was okay. Daddy protected me no matter what, and now, neither one of them were here. Uncle Sammy was locked in the panic room and Auntie Lucky couldn't get to me.

Three demons appeared, blasting the door off the frame, and smiled at us from inside their meat suits. Auntie began firing her guns, one shot after another but with a flick of their hands, they threw her against the wall, slamming her hard enough to put a hole in the wall where her head made contact and she fell to the ground, limp.

I turned to stare at the demons standing in my house and took a deep breath, feeling the hum of the shimmering protective shield Faith and I made together that surrounded us. "Uncle Cas," I whispered. "Please come."

…

Grace stood and pushed her shield out hard enough to slide the closest, overturned car away from her and Dean. Blasts of light exploded all around them as the witches made a final push towards the couple standing against the brick wall. Turning slightly to keep from being blinded, Dean glanced at the brick wall behind him and was taken aback by the silhouette that was spread across the brick and mortar. Grace's wings were bigger than he remembered and for the first time since being attacked, Dean turned back towards the coven and smiled.

"Gracie," he whispered, leaning towards her ear. "It's time to end this."

She nodded, raising her arms and lifting the car completely from the ground to toss it at the witches across the road. They scattered, diving for cover and Dean unloaded the full clip in his gun at them, knowing that if they were running, then their concentration was broken. This was his chance.

He let the empty clip fall from his forty-five and reloaded instantly, pushing the new, full clip into his gun and continuing to fire towards the witches. His aim was infallible, hitting each target he aimed at. He took out three more of them; each hitting the ground in a pile of fabric and hair. Trying his best not to kill any of the civilians, he still aimed for their arms and thighs, slowing them down enough to drop their guns and stare at their wounds curiously.

"Relentless," Dean muttered as he reloaded once more. "I'm down to my last forty-five clip, Grace. Gimme The Judge."

With her hands up, still concentrating, Grace turned so that Dean could see the matching pearl-handled forty-five tucked into the waistband of her jeans. He pulled it and clicked off the safety, aiming for the next set of witches that were attacking his wife. Rhiannon stared at the bullets and time seemed to bend as the shots slowed down.

"Little help, Gracie," he muttered. Instantly, she regained control of the bullet's trajectory and sped it back up, sending it into Rhiannon's exposed shoulder. It lodged there, making the blood drip down her chest, into her dress.

"You little bastard," Rhiannon spat as her sister came to help. Sasha lifted her hand and closed her eyes, muttering quietly to herself, trying to complete the healing spell.

Dean unloaded four more shots and they were halted in place as Rhiannon regained control. The bullets dropped to the ground and she smiled, the shine of her bald head reflecting the sunshine through the clouds.

Smiling and tilting his head, Dean replied, "Not true," he smiled. "I would only be a bastard if my parents weren't married. I'm more like…an asshole. A headache." He fired again. "A constant, throbbing thorn in your side." He winked at her. "By the way, I love your 'do. Very Sinead O'Connor."

Rhiannon shook her head as Sasha pulled the bullet from her shoulder and they both turned towards Dean and Grace once more. "I hope you told your children you loved them before you left," Rhiannon spat. "That was the last chance you would ever have."

Dean fired four times towards the witch, spending the last of The Judge. The slide came forward, proving that Dean was out of ammunition and he tucked the gun in the back of his pants, reaching for the nine millimeter that was tucked into his boot. Grace held up her hands and threw the park bench that had been passed back and forth back at the coven, forcing them to dive for cover.

When Rhiannon stood, she was holding one of the townspeople against her body as a shield. "Stop," she commanded. "You will stop, or they will begin to die. Eventually, I will find that runaway and kill her, and we will run out of townspeople. You will end up responsible for hundreds, if not thousands, of people dying in the streets."

Dean and Grace exchanged a look. Sighing heavily, Dean lowered his gun, acting as if he was done fighting. Rhiannon watched as Grace nodded once, giving her husband permission to do something and she gasped in horror as Dean Winchester raised his gun, aiming not for the witches, but the giant propane tanks behind them. Rhiannon hoped that the tiny, nine millimeter bullet would not be enough to puncture the steel tank, but his wife stood next to him, pushing her hands forward, palms out, controlling the speed and trajectory of his aim. The pair was a perfect combination of teamwork.

It was as if the air was sucked from the scene as the fire erupted from the punctured tank. The silence was deafening as the mushroom cloud-shaped explosion rose from the white containers and one after another, the four giant tanks exploded.

Grace braced herself as she raised her hands, manipulating the flames as she saw fit. She used the fire to push the witches back, throwing the flames towards Rhiannon, Sasha and the five remaining witches. Two of their dresses caught fire and in their panic, they were unable to stop the flames from crawling up the fabric and making contact with their long, flowing hair. They screamed in pain, trying to get away from the scalding heat, but it was too late. Their screams died away as Grace stepped clear of her protective barrier, Dean in her wake, firing what was left of his nine millimeter at the crowd and purposefully hitting shoulders and thighs to keep them at bay. Finally, he resorted to tossing aside the nine and grabbed the sawed off shotgun: the only remaining weapon he had at his disposal.

Dean walked backwards against Grace, leaving very little room between him and his wife. He fired occasionally, protecting her the best way he knew how, having no special powers of his own. The witches were on the run now, backing away quickly from Grace as she approached, throwing debris out of her way and tossing civilians to the side. She shook with adrenaline and fury and as three of the coven joined hands and began to chant, Grace lifted her hand, making a fist in the air, and immediately, the witches went silent, struggling for air. Dean whipped around, staring at them as they dropped to their knees, trying to breathe through Grace's hold.

Immediately, Rhiannon and Sasha glanced up towards the stone church, begging permission to some unseen leader. Grace lifted her arms, hands out, trying to keep them in place, but they vanished on the spot, escaping the flames that Grace attempted to bubble around them.

With the coven gone, dead, or dying, Grace allowed the flames to dissipate and she pushed her hands out, controlling the burn. Within seconds, the propane tanks were sealed, and the fire was gone. As the last of the coven lay there dying, Grace approached her and stared down into her amber eyes.

"Release the spell and I might let you live," Grace said quietly, silent rage still bubbling in her veins. Dean lowered the sawed-off towards the fallen witch, aiming directly at her forehead.

She coughed pathetically. "It's not my spell to release," she sputtered, coughing blood. She smiled weakly at Grace, feeling like she won, but as she lay there dying, a voice could be heard over the quiet.

"Dean!" the voice shouted, running down Main Street, her arms waving wildly. "Grace!"

The couple whipped around, turning towards their names. "Sabina," Grace breathed, a smile crossing her face. "She's okay."

Turning back to the witch that continued to cough up blood, Dean stared at her and clicked the safety off of his gun. "I guess we don't need you anyway."

One by one, the civilians that filled the streets with far-away looks plastered on their faces for who-knew how long seemed to come to, looking around confusedly and turning to one another and hugging. The witch at Grace's feet breathed her last strangled breath and her head hit the ground, finally going silent. Grace and Dean smiled at each other, finally feeling the surge of victory.

It was short-lived though, and the grin slid off of Grace's face when she replayed what had happened. "Liberty," she breathed, turning towards Dean. She pushed past him and sprinted for the Impala, ripping open the door, looking for her phone.

Dean was close behind, still limping slightly from the wound in his back. He stared at Grace as she dialed, the fear strangling his voice as Sabina joined them, watching carefully.

Staring at Dean, Grace waited with wide-eyed fear as the other end of the phone rang repeatedly; no one picking up on the other side.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Liberty

The demons approached Faith and me slowly, circling around us like animals. I waited, holding the shield that I had seen Momma make a hundred times before. One of the taller demons reached out, his gross face shifting unnaturally as he came closer. He didn't look like the man he was wearing and I finally understood what Momma was talking about when she said that she could see demons for who they really were.

They were ugly.

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my concentration as he began to speak to me. "Liberty Winchester, look at you," he sang, obviously making fun of me. "All big and bad, holding up her own wall and everything. She told us you were powerful. I guess she left off the part where she told us how powerful you were."

I stared and listened, wondering if he was talking about the same woman I had seen many times in my dreams. The woman with red hair frightened me, but Momma told me that she would protect me from her, and I didn't see her anywhere near, so at least I had that part under control.

"You know," the taller demon continued. "If you just dropped your little barrier and let me in, I can take you and your sisters with us. We'll grab that brother of yours and have the complete set. Wouldn't hurt a hair on that beautiful little head of yours."

"Step back from the girls," came a familiar voice from the kitchen. I smiled at the demon without looking up to see his trench coat swinging from side to side behind the counter. Uncle Cas had heard me. I knew we would be fine.

The demons turned to stare at Uncle Cas and tilted their heads. "Oh, yeah," he sighed, running his hands through his scraggily hair. "The Winchester Angel." He nodded towards us and lifted his eyebrows. "Do you think you're going to stop me from following her orders?"

"I know I am," Uncle Cas said, taking a step closer to me and Faith. I tried to move towards him too, still clutching Faith in my arms, but my feet were still cemented to the ground. She watched with calm eyes, knowing that Uncle Cas would help us.

The tall demon turned back towards me and raised his eyebrows. "I'll give you one more chance, little Winchester. You come with us and I will personally make sure we get you trained up right. Make sure you end up even more powerful than your mommy and daddy combined."

At first, I didn't understand the emotion I was feeling, and then I realized that I was mad. I was mad at the men that thought they could come into my house and hurt my family. I was mad that they had thrown Auntie Luck against the wall and tossed Johnny aside like he was a stuffed animal.

I lowered my eyes and I could feel a glow from inside my body and I knew what I could do. Uncle Cas nodded once at me, knowing my plan already and I took a deep breath and smiled, remembering what the demon had said. I smiled gently and whispered, "I already am."

There was a flash of light that filled the entire living room and blasted apart our dining room table. The three demons were thrown back against the wall, struggling to stay standing and Uncle Cas closed the gap between us, reaching for me and Faith. As I held my baby sister out to him, I noticed a bright red mark flash across my arm and recognized it as the same thing that Daddy had on his arm.

I forgot about it as soon as I looked away, still holding up my hands to keep up my shield. Uncle Cas backed towards Auntie Luck and bent to touch her forehead. He pushed her guns towards her with his foot and held Faith with one arm as he raised his other, protecting Auntie Lucky as she woke up.

She glanced at me and smiled, seeing Uncle Cas in front of us. "Glad you dropped by, Cas," she said, getting to her feet and grabbing her guns and checking both clips with one motion. "Stay for dinner?"

I turned, not thinking about the demons anymore, and realized that my feet had been freed from the floor. I ran back towards Auntie Luck as fast as I could as she began to fire.

I watched from behind her legs as she shot at the demons relentlessly and each time she fired, the bullet burned them from the inside, lighting them up with a red, fiery blaze, but not killing them. It seemed like they had extra protection: more than what Auntie was used to. Uncle Cas moved with her as they backed me up towards the panic room steps and I slowly moved down the staircase, away from the ugly demons.

Auntie Luck swore loudly as her guns clicked and the slides stayed forward, telling me that she was out of bullets. The demons were wounded, but still standing and they were inching towards us as a phone began to ring from the dining room table.

I knew it was Momma before the first ring was over and I saw Auntie Luck look towards the table where her phone was laying. She licked her lips and refocused on the demons that approached them as she pulled one of her Weapons Stone blades from the waistband of her jeans.

"You ready to go hand to hand?" she muttered to Uncle Cas as she shifted her position closer to him.

Uncle Cas nodded, but he was still holding Faith, who was watching the demons approach with her eyebrows furrowed. A glimmer in the air told me that either Uncle Cas had created a bubble shield, or Faith had learned to do it already.

"Give us the baby, angel," the demon spat. "Or we'll collect both of them after we kill you."

"Back off," Auntie Luck answered, stepping closer. She dropped an angel blade out of the sleeve of her flannel into her free hand and the demon took a step backwards, almost tripping on the rug.

I knew it wasn't me when the air started to vibrate, and when Uncle Cas shot me a confused look, I knew it wasn't him, either. There was a hum to the room that I was pretty sure only me and Uncle Cas could hear and I tensed, suddenly understanding what was about to happen.

"Oh no," I breathed, looking down at my feet and squeezing my eyes shut. "Look away," I said, knowing exactly what was coming. When my brother used to have meltdowns, he didn't have control over what he was doing, but when Faith got mad (even though she never really had before) I knew it would be worse than what Everett could do.

"Look away?" Auntie said, glancing at me. "Look away from what?"

I shook my head as the light began to pour from Faith. "Close your eyes, Auntie!" I shouted, dropping to the floor and reaching up to her flannel, tugging her down to the floor with me. I bent over and tried to cover my head with my arms. "And get out of the way!"

The sound was almost unbearable. Windows exploded and glass flew everywhere. Books went flying off of shelves and Daddy's boots slammed against the wall. Papers took to the sky and flew around us as if a tornado was inside the living room and the entire time, Auntie Lucky was trying to get closer to me, crawling slowly across the floor, doing her best to cover me with her whole body from Faith's tantrum. The house shook and there was a terrible screaming sound, louder than I had ever heard before coming from my baby sister.

Finally, Auntie was close enough to stand, pick me up off the floor, and dove down the staircase of the panic room and I opened my eyes a tiny bit to see all three of the demons burn from the inside and collapse into a pile of ash that instantly was whipped into the air and out the broken windows. The tantrum lasted only a few more seconds after that and with a crash; Faith let everything that she had been holding to the floor. The light dimmed, the scream quieted, and I was able to open my eyes again.

Aunt Lucky held me out and pushed the hair out of my face. She inspected me for a minute and wiped the dirt from my eyes. "Are you okay, Meatloaf?" she asked, louder than she needed to. I tilted my head a bit to see blood leaking slowly out of Auntie Luck's ears. She probably was more hurt that she was letting on.

I nodded and smiled weakly, leaning into her neck. "Yeah," I sighed. "Are you?"

She hugged me in response and turned to look up the stairwell. "Cas?" When there was no immediate response, she began to climb the staircase to make sure he was all right. "Cas?" she repeated.

As he came into view, I saw that he was staring at my baby sister with a surprised look on his face. She gurgled happily from his arms, waving her hands around, trying to touch his face. Finally, he looked up at both of us with glass in his hair and his tie facing the wrong way because of the wind. "I'm fine," Uncle Cas said, taking a deep breath. "Serendipity, you're bleeding."

Auntie lifted her free hand and touched the side of her face, where blood was dripping from one of her ears. "What?" she asked, making a face. "Oh, yeah," she agreed, realizing what Uncle Cas had said. She continued loudly, "Pretty sure Mushroom Cloud over there burst my ear drums. Where the hell did that come from?"

I watched Uncle Cas as he stared back down at Faith. "A very powerful creature indeed," was all he said, sighing heavily.

From behind us, we could hear Uncle Sammy pounding on the door of the panic room, still trying to get out. Auntie set me down and took the steps two at a time and held her hand up to the panel, thinking it was still working. She inspected the scorching and shook her head. "Hold on, Sam! We're okay!" she shouted. "Fuckers blew up the panel!"

The pounding stopped and Auntie Luck turned to look at Uncle Cas from the base of the steps. "Can you get in?"

Cas turned to put Faith in the playpen behind him, satisfied that she was safe and headed towards the panel. He shook his head as he stared at it and sighed. "I'm not sure if this is something I will be able to repair," he muttered. "The angelic sigils on the inside of the door make it difficult to remain this close to it. I don't know what to do."

"There's another panel somewhere," Auntie Luck put her hands on her hips and turned towards me. "Daddy put the other panel in, right?" she asked, still staring at me. "Didn't he put some secret failsafe in incase this kind of thing ever happened?"

I made a face and shrugged, not really knowing, but before I had a chance to answer, Uncle Sammy yelled, "Come to the outside of the house! There's another panel on the outside!"

"When your Dad isn't being an idjit, he's actually pretty damn clever," Auntie said, climbing the steps slowly, still obviously in pain. "Let's go get everyone out." She picked up her phone from the table as she walked by and dialed Momma.

"Yeah, we're good," she began when Momma picked up her end of the phone call. "But let me tell you, sister…I don't envy the time you're gonna have with Faith's terrible twos."


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Dean

I watched Grace and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when Serra answered the phone. "Yeah," I heard her say. "We're good."

I leaned up against the bullet holes that aerated my car and shook my head, closing my eyes, knowing my kids were safe. Everything hurt. The repairs that Cas had done on my body were rushed, but for good reason. I knew this would only be temporary, so I grit my teeth and toughed it out.

Grace nodded and finished up her phone call with Serra and I turned to see what she had to say.

"Well," she said, taking a deep breath. "Your youngest has your temper."

I made a face and lifted my eyebrows as I looked up at my wife. "Huh?" I asked, completely confused.

"Faith took out three demons on her own," she replied, retying her hair at the top of her head. "They showed up, knocked Serra out, Lib fought them off for a bit because Sam and the kids got tossed into the panic room…then Faith decided she'd had enough and wiped them off the planet."

I stared, deadpan at my wife, repeating, "Faith."

Grace nodded and sighed through her nose, unwavering. "Faith," she agreed.

"The fourteen pound pot roast."

She pursed her lips and nodded again.

Licking my lips, I ran my hands through my hair and glanced around the main street of Holden, Maine, almost forgetting about the people that were waking up from the coven's spell all around us. "Well," I began, shaking my head and staring at my wife, "That's a little terrifying."

"A little?" she repeated. "Our seven-month-old just turned three demons to dust, Dean." Grace ran a hand over her newly fixed ponytail and turned away from me, staring at the people rediscovering themselves. There were members of the same family greeting each other in the street and hugging, completely unaware of Grace and me. "If she can do that now…" Gracie faded away, still turned out towards the crowd. She leaned on the hood of the Impala and let her head hang towards her chest. "We're going to have to start really training them. All of them."

Stepping towards Grace, I glanced at Sabina, who was still trying to find a familiar face within the crowd of people. "Let's just get home and we'll figure it out, Grace," I whispered, touching her shoulder. "We knew our kids would be weird."

"She's seven fucking months old, Dean," Grace repeated, bringing her head up to face me. "What else can she do?"

"We've got some time to find out," I pressed quietly. "We've got this mess pretty wrapped up. The authorities will be here soon, I'll bet. I'd like to get gone." I looked behind me as Sabina walked further out into the street with her arms crossed. She seemed to be upset, but I didn't have the energy to think about why. "We can go back to the motel and clean up and then get back on the road. If we split shifts, we can be home tomorrow about this time."

"You're in pain," Grace said, changing subjects. She turned towards me as she realized that I was limping.

"I'm fine," I said, brushing her off.

She ignored me and pressed her hand to my forehead. There was a glow of blue around me and instantly, I could feel the rest of my spine realign and the pressure on my hips and legs released. The bullet wound at the base of my neck closed completely and I closed my eyes, relieved.

Opening my eyes, I came face to face with my beautiful wife and smiled. "Gorgeous and talented," I sighed.

"Yeah, you lucked out," she agreed, turning to face Sabina. Gesturing at her, Grace continued. "Is she looking for her family?"

"I think so," I agreed, glancing over my shoulder. I caught movement near the church where the witches had made their hideout and stared, narrowing my eyes against the glare of the sun. At the end of the street, there was a petite woman with fiery red curls dancing in the breeze. She was dressed in black from head to toe and stared at me long enough to be uncomfortable. Disappearing on the spot, I blinked, wondering if she was actually there or if I had just imagined her.

Grace gazed up at me, a questioning look crossing her face. I shook her off, but felt my eyes dart back to where the woman had been. I had an uneasy feeling about who she was, but couldn't nail down why. Either way, she was gone and we had townspeople to deal with.

"Sabina," Grace began, "do you see anyone you know?"

She pressed her lips together as she turned to face Grace. She shook her head with tears in her eyes. "No," she gasped.

"It's okay," Grace soothed. "It's okay. We'll stay with you as long as you need us."

Sabina nodded silently, her arms still tucked around her abdomen. "What if they're one of the bodies?"

I took a deep breath and gestured to the street. "I'll walk with you," I said quietly. "You need to know."

She licked her lips and nodded, heading out onto the pavement. As we surveyed the damage, I realized that Grace had gotten really powerful, really quickly. She had been able to toss around cars with the best of them, creating as much damage as the witches had. If I was honest with myself, Grace had gotten to the point that she made me a little nervous, considering that if I wasn't married to her, I might have classified her into a category that I would have hunted, not so long ago.

I glanced back at her, knowing that she would hear my thoughts and she smiled and winked at me. _"Turns you on, doesn't it?"_ I heard Grace's voice in my head as if she was speaking. I stared at her, my mouth hanging open like a dumbass, just staring at her. She continued, just for me to hear; _"Yeah, a lot of things kinda fell into place on this trip. Moving molecules doesn't just apply to stuff. I can do it in our bodies, too."_

I nodded and kept my pace with Sabina as she glanced down at the victims of the turf war. _"You say 'our' bodies. Besides throwing thoughts into my head, what else can you do to me from this far away?"_

 _"_ _Wouldn't you like to know?"_ Grace whispered and I could almost feel her breath against my ear. A strange sensation wound its way around my chest and my back, and I knew that she had figured out how to use her grace the same way as Cas could.

I glanced back at her again with heavy-lidded eyes and struggled to keep my mind out of the gutter. We were walking through the fall out of the battle we had just finished and here I was, trying not to get turned on. I shook myself out of it and followed Sabina. "Anyone?" I asked, refocused.

She turned back to me and shook her head again. "No," she replied. "It's like they're not here. Everyone else from town is," she sighed. "My family lives two blocks away. They should be here."

"Let's go check out the house, then," I said, waving to Grace. "We're gonna walk to her house. Check things out. You wanna bring the Impala around?"

Grace nodded. _"You can just think it. I'll hear you, remember?"_

 _"_ _This is creepy as hell,"_ I answered. _"But are you coming or not?"_

Grace got into the Impala and started it up, keeping pace with Sabina and me as we walked along the country road. "You guys could just get in, you know," she said as she pulled up next to me.

Grinning, I looked back at her and then the pain in my gut started, seeing the scads of bullet holes that were scattered across her hood and fender. "Jesus," I muttered. "That's gonna take a hell of a lot of Bondo."

Making a face, Grace shook her head. "Don't you dare Bondo this car. Just buy the panels and replace them. Write it out on the shop."

I sighed and shook my head as we continued our pace. "The shop is gonna go under, we keep using it for free."

Sabina turned the corner towards her house and she jogged to the porch, jumping up the steps excitedly. "Mom!" she shouted, reaching the top. "Dad! Mark!"

I followed her up the steps as Grace parked, following behind at a respectable distance. I couldn't hear anything in the house, and from the look of things, no one had lived here in a long time. There was a layer of dust over everything and the rooms smelled musty. Sabina was breathless when she circled back into the living room.

She glanced up at Grace as she followed us in and shook her head. "I don't understand," she whispered. "Where are they?"

Grace pressed her lips together sadly. "I don't know, honey," she said, reaching out to touch Sabina. "What do you want to do? They haven't been here in a while."

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes, and I glanced at my wife as Sabina took a breath to speak. "I don't know. I just want to get out of here."

I agreed with the teenager, wanting nothing more than to get back home to my kids, but wrapping this up was important. "Do you have any relatives in town?" I asked gently, "Do you think your parents would be there?"

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "No, there's no one else," she replied, wiping her face. "It was just us." Sabina turned away from us and walked into her bedroom slowly, continuing. "Now, I guess it's just me."


	39. Chapter 39

::Greetings! This chapter wraps up "Holden" and it has been a long and stressful ride. Thanks for hanging with me! I am in process of writing "Holden's" sequel "War", but during that time while I finish it up, I have a couple of throw-back Browning Sister adventures to post to keep you entertained until then. Think of them as hiatus-helpers. Thank you so much for all of the follows and reviews. You all are amazing and I appreciate you very much. I hope to hear from you soon!

Love and Internetty Hugs,

TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo::

...

Chapter 39

Dean

Grace showered first and I paced around the motel room, throwing stuff into duffle bags and zipping them without thinking about folding or neatness the way she did. I was throwing her duffle into the trunk as she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a tiny motel towel.

"Dean!" she yelled from the bed through the open door out into the parking lot. "Where the hell are my clothes?"

Squinting into the sun as it set over the motel roof, I shrugged. "I pulled a shirt and jeans out and left them there on the bed!"

She glanced down and tilted her head. "Bra? Underwear?"

"We're just driving home!" I shouted back, "Go commando!"

"Get me a pair of underwear and a bra or we're not going anywhere!"

Rolling my eyes, I swore under my breath. "Want, want, want," I mocked. "Need, need, need." I pulled out the first bra I found, (a nice, classy black number) and a matching pair of underwear and tossed them at her as I walked back into the room. Sabina hadn't said much since we got back to the motel, but I knew she was as ready as either of us to get back on the road.

Grace shimmied into panties and bra, dropping her towel on the floor as she pulled on the cut offs that I left on the bed. She held up the tiny black tank top and rolled her eyes at me. "I usually wear this _under_ something."

"Why?" I asked, completely at a loss.

"Because I am a mother of four," she spat back. "Look at this! The top is mostly lace! It's meant as a cami!"

"The hell is a cami?" I shouted, leaning towards her as I peeled off clothes to jump in and take my shower. I rolled up my fresh jeans and boxers, heading into the steamy bathroom. "Just…just get dressed so we can get the fuck out of here. Place creeps me the hell out."

I slammed the door as Grace collapsed on the bed, lacing up her boots. I could hear her sigh as she decided what to say to Sabina.

"You're welcome to stay with us for as long as you need," she began as I turned on the water. "We've got the room and the kids love you."

Sabina was quiet, but she said, "Thanks, Grace. You guys are some of the nicest people I've ever met."

Grace pressed her lips together. "I wouldn't go that far," she replied, smiling. "We just like to make sure people land on their feet."

…

My shower was short and cold, but I rinsed off, pulled on a new pair of jeans and we were out of the motel in twenty-two minutes flat, screaming down the highway, back towards our kids.

Grace was sitting on an old towel after complaining about her legs sticking to the seat. I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Then why did you pack shorts?" I asked, shaking my head.

"I don't know," she whined, "I like to be prepared for anything!"

"This is exactly why your fucking duffle weighs more than you do. Shorts in April on a hunt to Maine and a tank top made of lace. What the hell kind of gear is that?"

"See, this is the difference between Winchester hunts and Browning hunts," she sighed, crossing her arms in front of her.

"You might want to elaborate," I answered sarcastically.

She turned to face me with Sabina listening, but staring out the passenger window. "Winchester hunts are filled with flannel, bullets, and blades with a lot of testosterone. Browning hunts were a lot of the same, but skimpier clothes that got us what we needed without money. You and Sammy hustled pool and poker, but Serra and I hustled with our tits and asses."

I pursed my lips as Sabina finally cracked a smile in the rearview mirror. I shook my head, staring at her. "Don't you go and get any ideas, there, miss. 'Long as you live under my roof, you live by my rules." I glanced at Grace and pointed with my thumb, "Rule number one: your tank tops have to be made of solid fabric. Rule number two: your shorts have to cover your ass cheeks."

Grace grinned next to me, glancing over at Sabina. "It's a Dean-tatorship, Sabina," she giggled. "You'd better get used to it."

She was still silent, but Sabina reached over the back seat to squeeze Grace's hand. Grace's blue eyes flicked to mine and she smiled lightly. _"She'll be okay,"_ she thought at me. _"She's got a whole ranch full of orphans to learn from."_

 _"_ _Because that makes me feel better,"_ I replied, staring out the windshield.

Grace shrugged. "It's something," she said. She leaned her head back and took a deep, ragged breath, closing her eyes as the sun set in front of us. We listened in silence to the roar of the Impala as we drove on; home just twenty-five hours away.


End file.
